Clouded Vision
by kiiroi yumetobu
Summary: The fire in those eyes was reverberating inside him, searching for the right amount of friction so that a spark could finally catch, so that his own repressed flames could make themselves known.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N**: I haven't attempted an ongoing, not pointless and plotless smut fic since "War of the Alchemists" (which was also a plotless smut fic actually, it was just long.) So I thought I'd challenge myself and have some fun along the way since I'm pretty much a plotless smut writer. Sorry for repeating myself! But yeah, I'm making it clear that I'm not that experienced in this kinda thing so Im sorry if it's crap. Also, I'm unaware as to whether this kind of concept has been used already or not so if it shows similarities with another story, I apologize for unintentionally ripping it off. If any of you readers have read War of the Alchemists (now deleted) before I'd love to hear from you! Btw, this was only proofread roughly by me, so sorry for any mistakes.

**Important:** This story takes place after the FMA manga ending with minor changes to the storyline. May contain spoilers.

**Disclaimer:**I don't own FMA. If I did, everyone would be gay or lesbian, ha.

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**Clouded Vision**

**Chapter 1**

A suffocating blanket of infinite blackness. Blurred flashes of white flying past his vision, all the more frightening as he couldn't discern whether they were hallucinations conjured from too-alert senses or something tactile and sinister. Then those white ribbons had grabbed hold of him, wrapped their slimy tentacles around his limbs, squeezing, choking, a soulless beast intending to consume every last morsel of his physical and spiritual being. Two crept up his cheeks as he struggled for breath, sliming their way over his eyes and prying over his desperately closed lids. They pried and sucked, oblivious to, or relishing in, his muffled cries of pain at the steadily rising, searing pressure on his eyeballs-

Roy awoke with a stuttering gasp that echoed through the empty living room. The book on his lap had fallen to the ground with a dull thump as he started out of his interrupted sleep. Breathing raggedly, the black haired man rubbed the back of his hand across his eyes, lifting his feet off the coffee table and slowly sitting upright in his sofa.

He willed his heart rate and breathing to return to normal, relying on the comforting sound and warmth of the crackling flames in the fireplace to still his shaking frame. Before he could ponder upon how many times he has had this recurring nightmare, he noticed that something was not quite right.

The Flame alchemist stopped rubbing his eyes and blinked twice slowly. There was no happily burning fireplace appearing before his field of vision. Perhaps his ears and his sense of touch were deceiving him? He got to his feet cautiously, fumbling across the length of the coffee table before finding the switch of the reading lamp that he liked to keep there.

A definite click, but there was no soft, yellow light. A power shortage, perhaps?

Roy started once more as he heard a loud knock at his front door. Who was looking for him at such an hour?

"I'm coming!" he called out, barely managing to hide the panic of his still-raw nerves from his voice as he stumbled his way around the labyrinth of his furniture across to the main entrance. The man blinked furiously, feeling his way across the hallway and knocking vases and pictures to the ground that he never knew existed in his house. Something was not right-

Then the sharp corner of some unknown object smashed into his hip and his shin, the sudden impact causing him to yelp and lose his balance-

Ed's body tensed as he heard a loud thump resonating through the Mustang residence following the muted clatter of ceramics breaking on carpeted floor.

"Oi! Mustang! You in there?" he called, knocking on the door a little louder this time. There was no response. The blonde's apprehension was pulsing through his veins now, and he pressed the side of his head close against the cold, wooden door, alert to any whisper of movement.

Silence, and then a low, muffled groan.

_Shit. What was going on in there?_

A million scenarios ran through the young alchemists' mind, mostly revolving around an assassination attempt on the pompous bastard, whose remains he will _somehow_ try to beat the hell out of if he found out that the great Flame alchemist was so idiotic to throw away all concepts of self defence just because he was in his own house.

Trying to keep his transmutation as inaudible and muted in brightness as possible, he all but destroyed the twin locks and burst into the house, posed ready to fight.

His heart jumped to his throat at the sight of Roy Mustang sprawled on his front in the hallway amongst a mess of broken (and probably expensive) ceramics, but a quick scan of the environment told him that there was no intruder present, and that Roy was not a still-warm corpse on the floor.

That didn't mean the blond wasn't worried and slightly freaked out though, as he knelt down beside the man to timidly press fingertips to the pulse at his neck.

Roy flinched back from the contact and sat up clumsily, fingers posed to snap despite the absence of his white gloves.

"Chill, you idiot!" Ed growled, grabbing his superior's wrists, "It's me. What the _fuck_ were you doing?"

"F-fullmetal?" the man stuttered, blinking widely at him as though he was some sort of alien, "what are you doing here? I..."

"You _said_ that I could come to your place to access your mini library for my research," he replied, letting go of his hands, "or are you too drunk to remember anything? And can you not look like someone's gonna jump you at any second? You're making _me_ nervous."

The Flame alchemist mumbled a soft apology but made no attempt to disguise his jumpy appearance. Ed was genuinely concerned at the sorry excuse of the calm, manipulative, confident, unreadable, self-proclaimed roué and powerful alchemist that was now standing (more correctly, pacing stationary) before him. It would be a more plausible explanation to say that someone had kidnapped the bastard and replaced him with a very bad impostor.

"Are you okay, Mustang?" Ed said cautiously, peering up at the man's anxious face and searching for some speckle of familiarity. "You look kinda weird. Hello?"

"W-what?" he gasped, his black eyes darting left and right as if the blond was invisible.

"Stand still and look at the front," he ordered, clasping his right hand on a tense shoulder.

Roy complied in confusion, and Ed slowly waved his hand across his field of vision. No response. Then he pretended to throw a punch that stopped a few centimetres from his face. The man didn't even so much as blink.

"Wait," Ed said, dumbfounded, "you can't see me, can you?"

"No, I..." Roy began, but closed his mouth again at a loss for words.

"No. I can't see a thing."

TO BE CONTINUED

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**A/N: **Thank you for reading! Please do give me feedback, I'd really appreciate it. I'll try my best to update regularly. Meanwhile, if you like doujinshi I'd love if you also took a look at my RoyXEd DJ. Just go to my homepage on deviantart on my profile.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Hello again, thanks for all the feedback for the last chapter, I apologize that it was so short (that is also unusual for me). I just noticed that I forgot to replace a page break that the ff. editor ate up, but I guess it's not that crucial. This time I'll try not to repeat that mistake, but no page breaks this time apparently. Please enjoy!

P.S. I really appreciated the anonymous reviews as well. I will definitely not abandon this story!

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**Clouded Vision**

**Chapter 2**

As the words sunk in, Ed felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle in trepidation.

"What... you mean that the philosopher's stone's restoration of your sight wasn't permanent?" It sounded ridiculous, but it wasn't impossible. If that was the case, then...

The Brigadier-general exhaled slowly, attempting to pull his usual facade back into place.

"No, I don't think it's anything to do with that," he pondered, "but now that I think about it, this probably isn't the first time that it has happened-

"- that can wait. Let's get you to the couch first," the blond interrupted, wrapping an arm around the man's waist and draping Roy's right arm over his shoulder.

Roy was about to ask why, but he got his answer in the next step that he took, that drove an embedded shard of glass further into the arch of his foot.

Ed growled in irritation at the pained hiss that was emitted from pale lips.

"Don't walk on it, dumbass! Why'd you think I got my arm around you for?"

Roy fell silent in defeat as the younger alchemist strained to keep supporting his shifting weight as the man tried to hop on one foot. The blond carefully circled around the sad remains of valuable ceramics as he led his superior to the living room.

Even in such a circumstance, Ed was excruciatingly aware of the older man's proximity.

He could feel the warmth of his skin radiating through the thin cotton shirt, the toned muscles of his stomach beneath his palm, the rib cage expanding and retracting against his side. His scent, too, was overwhelming: the low notes of a sophisticated cologne grown faint after a long day of laborious work, framed by something more rounded and alluring, something uniquely Roy that made the younger man's mouth water.

Unintentionally he flexed his fingers that were grasping Roy's waist, and immediately the muscles tensed, ribs retracting as the man breathed in sharply. It was probably just that he had touched a ticklish spot, but Ed's over-analytical mind was conjuring up other, more appealing variables.

"You haven't taken off your shoes, have you?" the man suddenly said with a tone of irritation in his voice. Snapped out of his reverie, Ed stared at him incredulously.

"It was raining today, and you've probably just gotten your muddy footprints all over my carpet with your boots," he accused, a frown creasing his forehead.

Ed rolled his eyes. Well, at least the old Roy Mustang was back. Ever so paranoid about keeping his personal space immaculate.

"Fuck your carpet! You should be grateful that I'm even helping you or I'll just dump your sorry arse here for all I care. Besides, bloodstains are harder to get out and it's your own fault that _you're_ currently making a canvas out of your own carpet."

Roy protested in a string of incomprehensible stutters, allowing the blond to relish in his small victory.

The Flame alchemist grunted as the blond dumped him inelegantly into his leather seat.

"Where's the first aid box?"

"Overhead cabinet in the bathroom. Second door to the left."

"Stay there and don't move while I get it, okay?"

"I will if you take off your shoes first."

Ed growled and kicked off his boots, chucking them in the general direction of Mustang, who flinched as they hit the foot of his couch.

The man tried to relax as he listened to the fading pitter-patter of the blond's footsteps. He was immensely glad that someone other than an enemy had gotten in to check on him, and even more so that the someone was Ed- which reminded him, he would probably need to get his locks replaced given that break-and-entering was the blonde's favoured method of uninvited entrance.

His lack of sight allowed him to heighten his hearing: the creak of an opening cabinet and the dull clatter of objects as Ed rummaged through the bathroom. That, and the younger man had little concept of delicacy while he searched for things other than books. Roy hung on to those mundane but familiar sounds: the only things that reminded him he was not alone and a stranger in his own house.

He heard a faint clap, the sizzle and chemical tang of alchemy from the direction of his front door. Thankfully Ed had remembered to reinforce security, but that also meant that he would need to add a new door as well as locks to his shopping list.

The older alchemist, quite ashamedly, felt the kind of happy relief of a gurgling toddler for its homecoming mother as he heard Ed return to the living room.

"Where're the matches? I need to sterilize the tweezers but your fireplace is kind of dying," came the voice of the blond. Time had developed it to a rich and rough-edged tenor, complimenting his broadened shoulders, height (Roy did not care to over-emphasise this, however) and sharpened features.

"Next to the bust on the mantelpiece," he replied, slightly hurt by the fact that matches were preferred over his alchemy. But then, given his lack of sight he'd probably end up setting the whole house on fire instead of just the fireplace.

There was a crackle before a comforting heat began to fill the room.

Seconds later he felt the blond approaching; a soft rustle of cloth as he settled and lifted his injured foot.

"You ready? It's going to sting a bit."

Before he could answer there was a swift, sharp pain, then only a dulled, pulsing ache in the middle of his foot. Warm, gentle fingers wrapped around his heel, raising his foot as the younger man searched for any other embedded pieces. The digits against his bare skin tightened and relaxed while he angled his foot to inspect the wound, sending small sparks through his amplified nerves. He tried not to concentrate on how warm and soft that hand felt on his flesh, or on the cool breath that ghosted over his skin every now and then. A soaked cotton ball pressed cautiously to his wound, cleaning away the blood and grit.

Suddenly, something much colder was daubed against the gash, followed by the pungent odour of antiseptic and an unforgiving sting that was made worse due to its unexpectedness.

"_Shit!_" Roy swore, retracting his foot in automatic response.

"Told you it was gonna sting," the blond said, unsympathetic as he began to bandage up the injury.

"Could've told me _before_ you put on the antiseptic, you sadist."

The Fullmetal alchemist ignored him and asked, "so you said that this wasn't the first time that you've suddenly lost your sight?"

Ed could make out the faint discomfort on his elder's face. He was well aware that the sudden disability would be more than just a light blow to the man's dignity and privacy. But, if doing the little that he can to help the man meant overriding those boundaries, then that was what he had to do. Whether Roy would entrust him to such a degree, though, was a different matter.

The man's expression was blank, well disguised by years of practice, but the emotional conflict was visible in his tightly set jaw and clouded eyes.

"I have had a reoccurring nightmare ever since my sight was restored," Roy finally admitted in a quiet voice. "It was usually once or twice a week, more if it wasn't going well at work. The worst nights I'd wake up, not being able to see anything. I thought it was just my nerves, and since it was during the middle of the night I didn't think much of it. I'd always be fine by morning. This is the first time it has happened during the early evening, so I didn't know how to react."

Ed's shoulders slumped in relief- that Roy was being honest with him- as well as in dread. He himself was no stranger to nightmares that cruelly wrenched him out of slumber, feeling as if daggers were twisting into his prosthetic limbs, but blindness, he imagined, would be ten times worse. It would be total disorientation, not only from a familiar environment but from your own self; losing the essence of your humanity to a gaping hole of frightening neutrality.

"Why didn't you tell someone?" he asked softly, resting his bandaged foot upon his lap.

"They wouldn't be able to help. I don't want to burden someone else with a petty concern like this," Roy replied, sighing.

That sounded exactly like someone he knew- _oh wait, himself_. Ed chuckled dryly at his own hypocrisy.

"But still, it would be better to get some kind of professional opinion from a shrink or a doctor or something, wouldn't it?" the blond suggested.

Roy tried not to be distracted by his leg that Ed had casually rested on his own firm, leather-clad thighs, and quickly analysed the situation.

"I can't guarantee that any doctor who looks at me might not leak the news to political parties, who might be averse towards my position within the military. My vulner... _less than_ _optimal_ state would become their perfect opportunity to bring about my _accidental _death."

"True that. Sorry. Hey, where's your phone?"

"On my desk in my study, across the hall. Why?"

"Gonna ask for medical advice from a reliable source, of course. I hope the line's secure for the sake of your pretty arse."

"Of course it is, Fuery set it up for me."

Ed set down the man's foot and threw the white gloves that had been deposited onto the coffee table into the Flame alchemist's lap.

"Even if you can't aim properly, it's better to burn down everything instead of letting yourself get killed, alright?"

The blond strode over to the study, leaning the side of his hip against the mahogany desk as he dialed the number.

"_Hello, Rockbell Mechanics, what can I do to help you?"_

"Hey Al, it's me."

"_Nii-san! How've you been? I hope they haven't been making you work too hard?"_

"They can try all they want, doesn't mean I'll do it. Hey, sorry for making you revise during your holidays, but I gotta ask you for some medical advice."

"_What? Are you alright, nii-san?"_

"It's not me, don't worry. Just curious."

A pause on the other end of the line. Obviously he didn't believe a word of that.

"_But nii-san, I'm only studying a medical degree, I'm no professional..."_

"I trust _you_ more than some crummy doctor. Do you know anything about how someone can suddenly turn blind?"

"_Well... temporary blindness can be caused by various factors... problems with the heart or the cardiovascular system, chemicals, cranial pressure caused by a build up of fluids in the brain..."_

"What about... say, someone wakes up from a nightmare and sometimes lose their sight temporarily?"

"_That sounds like some form of conversion disorder? Extreme psychological and emotional stress could lead the brain to convert mental effects into a physical form. It's highly unusual though."_

"How long do these episodes last? They're not permanent, I hope?"

"_Depends on the individual. I've read cases where they could last up to a month, or a year even, but they're usually very short. Nii-san, what's going on?"_

Ed sighed, defeated. "Mustang's gone blind."

"_What! But I thought his sight got restored?"_

"That's what I thought. I thought it might be something roughly parallel to my phantom pains, but I just wanted to make sure it wasn't some weird medical thing."

"_But the Brigadier-general could have medical problems that he's not aware of too that could be a factor of his condition... I suppose that it's not safe for him to seek medical advice?"_

"Ever the analytical genius, Al. So what should I do?"

His younger brother sighed. _"Stay with him and look after him till he gets better? I would come to help, but if it's a conversion then I can't really do anything. Just watch out for him and ask him if he has any medical history of heart or cranial problems, or if he has had exposure to any chemicals lately. If he has then call me, alright, nii-san?"_

"Guess I don't really have a choice, do I?"

_Oh joy. Spending god-knows how long stuck in the same house with Roy Mustang?_

Al allowed a hint of humour to show in his voice despite his worry. "_I think it'll be a good opportunity to get closer to him though, don't you think?"_

Ed blushed furiously and hissed, "Don't you dare go there! I'm only here because I was going to borrow a book and just happened to-

"_-whatever you say, nii-san. Don't keep him waiting by himself for too long, okay?"_

"...fine. But I'm telling you-

"Go_, nii-san!"_

Ed growled. "Alright. Thanks Al, you've been a lifesaver. Take care of yourself and say hello to Winry and Pinako for me."

"_You too, nii-san."_

The blond hung up, cursing his younger brother for being so observant and nosy.

He turned around and nearly lost his hair to find the Flame alchemist leaning against the door frame, the perfect picture of sexy confidence aside from his unfocused gaze and fatigued appearance.

"But I'm telling you what?" he asked casually, an irritatingly familiar smirk sliding onto the handsome face.

_Oh, fuck._

TO BE CONTINUED


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **Thank you so much for the reviews again, anonymous ones too! I really appreciate them. Uni's been hectic and I've been lazy, so please forgive me for slow updates… and also clichés. I think I totally overdid that certain section…

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**Clouded Vision**

**Chapter 3**

"Wh- can't you at least _knock_ or something?" Ed raged, wanting very much to just _throttle _the man, "don't just sneak up on me like that!"

"Knock? Funny, I could've sworn that this was _my_ house," Roy replied, quite amused as the image of the blond spitting fire popped up in his mind on its own accord.

"Screw you," the younger alchemist growled back, "I thought I told you to stay seated! What if you knocked into something again and smashed your stupid head open-

Roy frowned as the blond suddenly stopped, his slightly high-pitched ranting echoing briefly before leaving the house in a contrasting state of eerie silence. He cautiously shifted his weight back upon both feet, grasping the door frame upon which he leant a few seconds ago tightly with his left hand.

"… Fullmetal?"

Footsteps grew louder before he felt the younger man's faint warmth beside him, fingertips brushing against his sleeve to assure him of his presence.

"Sorry, shouldn't have zoned out on you," Ed said, grimacing, "when you fell just before I came in, you didn't fall on your head, did you?"

"No, I took most of the fall on my side," the black haired man replied, trying not to wince. He thanked god that no one had been there to witness his _very _graceful collision with his table, followed by his first face-to-face encounter with his own carpet.

"Good to hear you weren't _that_ stupidly uncoordinated," Ed sighed, ignoring Roy's feeble sound of protest.

"I just called Al. He said your sudden loss of vision could've been caused by physical factors; heart problems, brain problems, exposure to chemicals, all that crap I don't really know about. You know if you've got anything wrong with you along those lines?"

"The last time I had my check-up there was nothing out of the ordinary. I haven't touched any questionable substances either."

"I suspected as much. The only other explanation is something called… what was it… _conversion disorder_? Al said-

"I _know_ what it is."

Ed's temper flared instinctively at the man's harsh interjection- yet, he suppressed it when he noticed the tense line in the Brigadier-general's body. The man was evidently trying to deny, or at least to avoid verbalising, the link between all the shit that he's been through with his current disposition. To him it would be to admit that he was so weak as to not even be able to control what his mind was telling his body to do. Roy confessing to him that he awoke from nightmares, not be able to see, was one thing, but admitting the cause when it had been thrust in your face was another thing entirely.

Ed himself had been through that, thinking that pretending to have an impenetrable shell was the best way to keep the people he cared about safe. It took hours of passionate scolding from Al and a blow to the head by every single utensil from Winry's toolbox to convince him that once in a while, he was allowed to, and _needed _to, let other people shoulder his pains as well. Ed had his little brother and his crazy mechanic to remind him of that. But who did Roy have?

The younger alchemist gnawed anxiously on his bottom lip before he made up his mind. He crossed his arms and stubbornly continued, "Al said it was when your brain converts extreme psychological or emotional stress to a physical reaction. Is that so hard to believe?"

He watched Roy's face darken as he turned to face the corridor, feeling guilty but determined to delve further into that crack in his mask now that he had crossed the line.

_Fine. I have all the time I need to get through his dumb skull._

"Where are you going?" Ed questioned, trying not to turn the enquiry to a snap as Roy started to walk off awkwardly. He caught him by the elbow as he stumbled slightly, noticing the way he tensed, as if wanting to shrug him off but not being able to.

"Have you had dinner yet? I haven't, and I'm starving," he answered, tone flat and casual.

"Well no. But you can't really cook for yourself let alone the both of us, right?" the blond scoffed, nudging his superior away from a precariously tall and slim vase. "I'll do it for you but don't complain if I mess up your oh-so-beautiful kitchen."

"I could've just found some bread and cheese or something," Roy said defensively, "you don't have to stay here."

"Are you stu- no, you _are_ stupid. You'll run into everything and eventually kill yourself. Hell, you'd probably walk out a window or into the fireplace thinking that it's a door. No way I'm leaving you here by yourself. I need you to stay in one piece for venting my everyday frustrations on during work. "

"Really, I'm honoured that I mean so much to you, Fullmetal."

"You're welcome, asshole. Hey! Watch the cupboard-

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Roy was prepared to build up the worst-possible mental image of his post-Ed kitchen, so that he wouldn't die from shock when he was able to see it again. However, there were less shatters, bangs and explosions than he expected, and he ended up mentally thanking Alphonse instead for remembering to teach his older brother some basic culinary skills.

Between the mixed noises of the clatter and squeaking of cutlery and plate, slurps and munching from the blond who practically inhaled his dinner as usual, Roy could hear his stomach rumbling in complaint as the tempting scent of stake, gravy and vegetables wafted into his nose.

-which was torture, because he had never imagined how _hard_ it would be to eat without his sight. The younger alchemist had apparently neglected to cut his steak into bite-sized pieces for him in his own awakened hunger: the man took a few minutes to navigate around the slice of meat to find the edges so he wouldn't just end up cutting the whole thing in half. Even then he more often than not resulted in cutting pieces that were too big for his mouth or too small to locate on the plate.

That aside, the vegetables were worse. In particular, they just _had_ to be carrot cubes, peas and corn. He tried to scoop up some with his spoon but he was sure that by now half of them had been shoved off the plate and onto the table. And also, he literally didn't even know where his mouth was. He could either starve or risk stabbing himself repeatedly with a fork.

Ed finally looked up from his almost-empty plate at Roy's sigh of resignation. The man sat slumped in his chair, eating utensils lying forgotten beside a plate that was still quite full. Peas, corn and carrot cubes were scattered around the plate and decorated with dollops of gravy. He mentally kicked himself for being so insensitive and pulled up his chair to the right of Roy, who flinched at the sudden movement.

"Sorry," Ed said with a sheepish grin, "forgot all about you."

"And _I_ was the one who was supposed to be hungry," Roy mumbled back. The blond tried to suppress a giggle at the man's expression; it was not unlike the one of a child who had missed out on ice cream. The fact that there was a smudge of gravy at the corner of his mouth didn't help either.

Without thinking, Ed reached up to brush away the sauce, his flesh fingertips gently rubbing the edge of his mouth so that the smudge will flake off. It was only when Ed caught Roy's shocked expression that he quickly drew his hand back, a fantastic blush spreading across his cheeks. He turned away and cleared his throat, wiping his fingers on the table cloth as his mind had only _just_ comprehended the intimacy of the situation. As well as how soft and warm the man's lips felt, how the spikes of his fringe just fell into those eyes of the deepest azure, how his scent-

The younger alchemist gritted his teeth and forced all of those inappropriate thoughts out of his head, mentally kicking himself for the second time. He slid the plate closer to himself and began to divide the stake into edible portions, extremely glad for the diversion. At one point he sneaked a sideways glance and almost jumped out of his skin to find those intense eyes boring into his own- then he remembered that Roy couldn't actually see him.

"Alright, it's all done," he announced hastily, sliding the plate back in his direction and slipping the utensils into Roy's loose grasp.

"Thanks," his superior replied, tentatively poking at his plate. Ed was about to give him some space when the piece of meat fell off his fork halfway towards his mouth (actually it looked to him like it was aiming more towards his nose) and landed dejectedly back onto the plate.

"So much for 'you don't have to stay here', huh?" the blond sighed, snatching the fork from his boss' hand. "You'd sooner gorge out your eyes before you get even a morsel of food into your mouth."

"What're you doing?" Roy said sharply, turning to glare at the general direction of his subordinate.

"Feeding you, what else?" he replied, trying not to wince at how that sounded.

"_No_ you are _not _doing that-

"Stop talking and open your mouth or I'll force-feed you."

Ed waited, loaded fork poised at Roy's lips as the black-haired man weighed up his options before he finally complied half-heartedly. The blond tried not to pay too much attention to the mouth that he was dying to feed something _other_ than steak, gravy and vegetables, telling himself that this was not the most appropriate thought to have at the dinner table.

"You done chewing?"

"Yeah. The steak is cold."

"Oh, _boo hoo._ Deal with it. Open your mouth."

"… I wanted more steak, not vegetables."

"Well, should I fucking _ask_ you every time how many cubes of carrot and corn kernels you want as well?"

"Mm. You know, you'd make a _great_ nurse or maid."

"Yeah, I'd be so well trained cos you're even brattier than five kids put together. Can you just shut up and eat already?"

"It's called dinner conversation, Fullmetal."

"Your concept of conversation is just screwing with me, you prick. Hey, don't you spit out the peas!"

This was going to be the first of a series of the longest meals that the two alchemists would have in their whole lives…

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TO BE CONTINUED

A/N: Ah, sorry about another hastily done chapter. I'm supposed to be writing a 2000 word essay on Descartes' First Meditation and shit... but I don't want to delay this any further since I already had more than half done anyway. So if you have to wait heaps long for the next update, I'm very sorry. But the next one will be quite fun, I think. Bath time would doubtless be a part of it, mhm.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Sorry, I took FOREVER too update! University is just such a pain up the bum. And although I'm on holidays now I just had to submit another essay and then another one due at the end and then all this stuff to catch up on in my Visual Arts course and… it's a bummer. But, I hope you enjoy this chapter… I'll try my very best! It seems I enjoy making Ed the fantasizing pervert more in this story. Although it seems fitting under these circumstances, the other way round might be fun too…

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Clouded Vision

Chapter 4

Glistening black hair with crystal beads dripping off the ends of each strand. Lightly toned muscles that flexed as he reached around to lather soap onto delectable porcelain skin. An elegant hand spreading rainbow-coloured soap suds across a broad chest, a thumb unintentionally brushing against a dusky pink nipple before the digits travelled down the ridged planes of his side. The individual paths of warm water surrendering to the force of gravity, travelling past his navel before weaving into those dark curls-

Those were the images that untimely flashed before the mind's eye of the Fullmetal alchemist when he heard Roy utter the simple words, "Time for a shower."

Ed found himself thanking God again that Roy couldn't see anything at the moment, because he was quite sure that he had lost control of his salivary glands.

"S-should I get you your PJ's or something?" he managed to croak out, trying to suppress the heat that was spreading through his lower belly.

"Oh- yes. They're just at the foot of my bed," Roy replied, slightly embarrassed. "Underwear's in the bottom drawer of the wardrobe. Thanks."

"Yeah, sure thing," he answered quickly, happy for the opportunity to dash off.

Leaving Roy in the bathroom, Ed took a bit of time to navigate around the older man's house while looking for his bedroom. It was spacious, but not enough to seem too big for just one person. The furniture and decorations were minimal but picked with a good measure of both functionality and style: reflecting its owner perfectly.

_Almost _perfectly, Ed mentally corrected himself with a grimace as recalled the supremely irritating daily scenes of the Flame alchemist carrying himself like he owned wherever place he happened to be at while reducing all the women to besotted puddles of goo with barely a glance.

Why do those _stupid_ no-brainer females have to always put up that omigwadhe'ssohotithinkhesmiledatmei'mgonnafaint charade every time Roy walked by, as if he was _actually _bothered enough to even acknowledge their miniscule existence for the tenth of a second? Why did Roy have to (in-genuinely) smile back sometimes, just to make Ed feel something tugging at his heartstrings and firing up his temper as if he was experiencing something akin to jealousy?

He gritted his teeth as he yanked open the drawer and snatched a pair of navy briefs, very eager to blow up something to let off some steam. Grabbing the PJ's as well, he stomped his way back to the bathroom and barged in without bothering to knock.

And found the object of his current frustrations stripped down to white underwear which were, unmercifully, _just_ tight enough to lightly outline the intriguing shapes in that area.

"W-w-why are you freakin' undressed already, you pervert?" Ed sort-of screamed, face beet red as he whipped around to stare at the door instead.

"Because I'm going to take a shower?" Roy deadpanned, easing down the rest of his clothes. "Who's the pervert who ran in here without knocking?"

"Well you could've _warned _me next time!" Ed growled, trying to shove the heavenly image out of current frame of mind… and storing it away for future use.

"I am now as naked as the day I was born, happy?" he sighed.

_Very_, Ed's other mind sniggered before being smashed to smithereens.

Roy hesitated before continuing, "so… thanks for getting me my things…?"

The blond cursed himself and took a deep breath before he turned around again.

"I'll help you get in so you won't slip and kill yourself. You _know _what the percentage of household accidents that occur in the shower is. "

_No,_ I am _not_ making excuses! He added to himself.

Ed kept his eyes at the appropriate level as he stepped closer and put an arm around the man's waist. He snuck a glance at the man's face, noticing the light dust of pink on the cheekbones and the anxious frown at his brows. On one hand he felt guilty for making Roy feel self-conscious in his own house, but on the other, his heart was throbbing at the rare and quite adorable sight of the great roué of central actually looking _shy._

After more than a few awkward moments, they finally got Roy safely in the shower with the right temperature adjusted and shower-utilities placed within convenient reach.

"Shout out when you're done, okay?" Ed called over the water, sliding close the glass door.

Roy nodded, expressing his thanks with a soft smile that couldn't be properly directed at him, but made his breath catch in his throat all the same.

Ed swallowed and snapped out of his temporary paralysis before leaving the room, as much as he would have liked to stay and observe. He sighed deeply as he slumped down into a squat outside, clapping his flesh hand against his burning forehead.

At least he now has more than sufficient reference material for his future happy-time sessions.

* * *

Roy never thought that there would come a second time in his life where someone actually put him to bed. And the last person that he could picture doing it was his rather short-tempered blond subordinate. (Actually the other more terrifying possibility was Hawkeye.)

He knew he'd be feeling mortified when Edward pulled the covers up to his shoulders- but what he didn't expect to feel along with mortification was a strange sense of familiarity and comfort.

"What time is it?" he mumbled as he wriggled around to form a warm cocoon.

"Around ten thirty," he heard Ed reply. "Way past your bedtime, is it? My bad."

Roy poked his head out from beneath the covers and shot a glare at the estimated source of the sniggering. It must have been a futile attempt as the snigger turned into a bright, unchecked laughter that made him wish he could see Ed's expression right now. Was that all it takes to make Ed laugh such a genuine, captivating laugh? He wished he had found out sooner.

Roy held off that thought and shrunk back into his cocoon.

"Anyway," he continued, "it's getting late so you should go home or something."

"What?" Ed huffed, "I haven't even gotten to read those books yet and you're kicking me out?"

"Ah, I forgot about that. The study's all yours (he heard Ed issue a hissed "Yes!") but don't mess up anything. Help yourself to the stationary. You can take some books home, just leave me a note on the desk, ok? And lock the door before you go… oh wait, you broke it. Well, seal it shut somehow."

There was no reply for a few seconds, and Roy almost thought that Ed had already crept out of the room during his instructions out of his eagerness to get to his books.

The blonde's voice was slightly strained when he finally spoke. "Can't I just read them here? Or am I being a nuisance to you by staying?"

"Of course not!" he snapped, surprising even himself with the outburst. Wondering if he could overturn Edward's misconception without revealing himself, he heaved a sigh into his pillow. "Edward, are you listening to me?"

"Y-yeah. Why?"

"If you're such a nuisance, I would have told you in the first place to bugger off and do your own research at another library, wouldn't I? And I would have told you to call someone else to help me instead of getting you to stay here for so long, wouldn't I?"

"Pfft, call who? Hawkeye?"

"Exactly that, Fullmetal. There aren't many acquaintances who I trust enough to look af… _assist_ me in my current predicament. And since she's a woman it might make things more inconvenient…"

Shit, he was bad at this.

"So I _conveniently_ happen to be a guy who also won't gain anything from taking advantage of this situation and murdering you?" If anything else, his subordinate sounded disgruntled.

"That's not it! I _trust_ you!"

Ed's irritated foot-tapping stopped abruptly.

Ah, he was glad that his face was currently hidden in his makeshift cocoon.

"… whatever."

"I'm serious!"

"Can't tell if you're curled up like a beached shrimp over there!"

"That's the best you'll get from me so zip it!"

He felt his cheeks heat up as the blond issued an almost inaudible chuckle.

"… if you want to take a shower there're fresh towels in the bottom drawer."

"I'd love one. I don't have a change of clothes, though."

"Go through my wardrobe to see if you can find anything that fits your puny body-OW!"

Roy rubbed his shoulders, growling as he heard the younger alchemist rummage through his things.

"One more comment like that and I'll shrink all of your things and you won't be able to do anything about it, HA!"

With that, his subordinate stomped his way out of the bedroom, evidently in better spirits.

Roy smiled and closed his eyes, listening to the faint sounds of Ed in his house. He was unaccustomed to hearing someone other than himself going about his home. Visualising Ed as that someone made him want to laugh, but at the same time, it had a vague quality of nostalgia attached to it. As if a long time ago, it had always been the two of them until some big, bad monster whisked the blond away and left him the sole inhabitant of this lonely castle.

The black haired man rubbed at his temple, groaning. The psychological implications of his sudden loss of sight must have caused significant damage to his brain cells for his imagination to conjure up such a ridiculous story.

He was spared from further agonising over this issue when the sound of running water reached his ears. From his room, the shower would have sounded just like a mini rainstorm if it weren't for the groans of over-exertion from the pipes. Strange again, to picture his subordinate occupying his shower on what should have been an unspectacular, quiet evening spent by himself.

Roy couldn't help himself but imagine how Ed looked at the moment- soap suds painting his gleaming automail rainbow colours, long hair darkened to a dull ochre from the water and pasting onto his back in snake-curls, water droplets racing down tanned and scarred skin, down and over toned muscles and jagged planes of bone and sinew…

He suppressed a groan of frustration and slammed his head against his pillow- Ed was staying here and helping him out of pure intentions and here he was, thinking about how his subordinate would look in the _shower_. Not the most appropriate behaviour from a man more than twice his age.

But, he pondered, isn't it normal for guys to appreciate the anatomy of their male peers, just for the aesthetic pleasure or to envy what they themselves weren't lucky enough to be born with?

The cynical voice at the back of his head scoffed at him for conjuring up such a lame excuse.

Speaking of appreciating anatomy…

Roy gripped his pillow in alarm as he recalled that not too long ago Ed had barged into the bathroom while he was preparing for his shower. He had almost fallen over in shock when a kind-of discernible sentence had been issued (more or less as a high pitched scream) from the blonde's mouth. Guys don't usually scream if they accidentally (or mindlessly) walk into another guy getting change, right? They'll just say "Oh hey, my bad" and carry on as normal. But Ed had _screamed_, more or less. Did he see something undesirable? Something shocking? Was his body repulsive? Should he have been wearing something less shape-defining instead of white briefs? (Damn the recent rain for intervening with his laundry!)

The notorious ladies'-man of central could literally feel his metaphorical manhood shrivelling up like an autumn leaf as a cloud of gloom descended upon him. He remembered the note of dread in the blonde's voice as he offered to help him get into the shower. Ah, he really should have opted for the possibility of death-by-slipping instead to save himself and his subordinate from eternal humiliation. The other factor is definitely his unmanly paleness (despite many attempts of tanning) that he had never been fond of. Damn his natural complexion!

And so, unbeknownst to Edward, he had caused the great Flame alchemist, roué of central, to relapse into an episode of depression and insecurity.

TO BE CONTINUED

* * *

A/N: Why is it so funny-seeming? I wanted to write a serious fanfic for once, but it keeps on turning into humour. Worse, my sense of humour isn't even that great. Well, it's safe to say that I won't be able to be funny in the next chapter. The next chapter will be pretty serious. And it seems the different ideas don't flow very smoothly while I was proofreading. It's just like, whoop! Whoop! Zwee! from one thing to another. Is it like that for your guys while you read this? Are the chapters too short? I really get stuck in some places. It takes me heaps long just to think of one sentence.

Anyway, I bought two second hand books today, I was so happy to find them. But I just realised that one of them is missing 14 pages from the first chapter. Why is that? I was wondering why the beginning seemed so disjointed. The book is called "Forbidden Colours" by Yukio Mishima. My favourite Japanese (or, in general) writer so far is Haruki Murakami, though. He's amazing. I'll stop talking now. Please tell me what you think about this chapter! I'm trying not to change the POV's so abruptly and often like I used to.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Apologies for late update, once again… haha I should just give up apologizing, it's like that every time, pretty much. Well I only gotta finish my surrealist painting (damned bad quality oil paint!) then it's a long holiday ahead of me… Anyhow, I hope you enjoy this more-serious-than-usual chapter!

* * *

**Clouded Vision**

**Chapter 5**

_I trust you!_

Ed's heart fluttered as he recalled those words again. The man's tone as he spontaneously burst out those words was defensive, offended – but all the same, he could tell that Roy didn't say it just to justify himself or to make Ed feel better.

The blond growled in annoyance as he turned off the shower tap and began to twist the water out of his hair. He was making too much out of it. So what if Roy genuinely trusted him? He trusted him as a _comrade_, as much as he would trust Falman or Breda or Havoc. That didn't give him special privilege or anything. Comparatively, he hasn't even known Roy for all that long.

His blurred reflection glared back at him as dried himself off. Here he was, sharing the man's house, helping him eat, shower, go to bed, using his things... and to think that in a couple of hours this kind of intimacy (in whatever form) they had momentarily shared would become a vague memory that Roy would probably be _more _than happy to forget.

_Might as well enjoy it while it lasts_, Ed thought while shrugging on too-big pajamas that smelt faintly of Roy. He blushed as he thought of the soft garment that had often clothed its owner now clothing his own body: particularly, the pajama bottoms under which he wore nothing, because his hand-washed underwear was currently drying on a rack and he was _not _about to boldly borrow a pair of undergarments from Roy.

_Especially not after seeing him in nothing but white briefs like that..._

Ed promptly shook the image out of his head before he would need another shower and stepped out of the bathroom.

He marveled at the extensive library in Roy's study as he continued to dry his hair. It wasn't that he didn't have the money to compile his own collection, but it was more like he didn't have the time or place to make a home for himself and Al, let alone to create a library.

The younger alchemist eagerly took a few desired volumes off the shelves and settled down on one of the couches to start reading, letting his mind to be distracted by something more practical and less potentially embarrassing than fantasizing about his superior officer.

He kept on reading for a few hours until his eyes started to complain of overexertion, and returned the books to their appropriate place. The clock read a little after 2am, making him yawn involuntarily. He walked around the house to make sure everything was turned off and locked, and then he returned to Roy's bedroom to check up on him.

The man seemed to be fast asleep as he tip-toed to his bedside and cautiously sat down at the edge of the mattress. Ed tried not to smile as he watched the Flame alchemist snooze away, his expression soft and innocent, hair already slightly mussed and falling into his eyes. The blond reached out to brush the fringe out of his face, his fingers lingering on the brows, unblemished by a frown in the peacefulness of slumber.

He could never have imagined that Roy would look so incredibly young and vulnerable in his sleep. Just like everybody else, during these seven to eight hours of rest, the Flame alchemist's face would be stripped of the mask of cool, detached confidence that had taken years to perfect. If one was lucky enough to not be plagued with nightmares, they were even free from the accumulation of wrongs and sins that had been committed intentionally or unintentionally throughout their lifetime. Seven to eight hours of neutrality where they were just as unburdened as a saint or a child, where everyone returns to the blank slate of a newborn.

But people like himself and Roy weren't even allowed that privilege half the time – on bad nights those dark things persistently remained, eager to inspired more fear, more self-hate.

The blond grimaced as he tentatively traced his index across a cheekbone. He wasn't so sure about himself, but Roy sure as hell didn't deserve this. He wanted to be the warm body and comforting words when Roy woke up in the middle of the night, desperately seeking escape like a convict from a windowless cell. Al had always been his anchor, and Ed wanted to be Roy's.

_But who are you kidding? Who do you think you are?_

Golden eyes travelled from the beautiful face, down the pale neck, then to a gently rising and falling chest, peeking out from a half-unbuttoned pajama top – all well within reach, but never to be _his_.

He threw away his inhibitions for the moment to stroke down the side of Roy's neck. Nudging aside the collar he moved his hand along his shoulder, then back across the collarbone. He swallowed as his exploration led to the man's slightly exposed breast, warm and smooth between the V of the open shirt, as inviting and yet as dangerous as treasure in a cave. Flesh fingers slipped beneath the thin cotton, counting the steady heartbeat beneath his palm.

In a final spike of courage Ed's hand strayed down to the man's ribcage, allowing his thumb to brush against an amazingly soft nipple. The warmth in Ed's lower belly flared into a pulsing heat between his legs as the nipple hardened immediately beneath his touch, accompanied by a low and soft whimper issued from faintly parted lips.

The younger alchemist withdrew his hand at Godspeed as Roy stirred – he swore that if Roy had woken up right then he would just _take _him, consequences be damned – but the man simply rolled onto his side towards where Ed sat and curled around his warmth, making a vaguely happy noise.

Ed found himself torn between affection and arousal, to have his superior snuggling up against him like a big puppy. With shaking hands he hastily buttoned up the open shirt and drew the covers over his shoulder, tucking it loosely beneath his chin so that he wouldn't lose the blankets again and catch a cold.

Reluctantly leaving his bedside, he retreated to the safe zone of the spare bedroom next door. The blond made a shallow dive onto the bed, groaning his frustrations into the pillow that smelt slightly stale from disuse. His erection, still going strong, was digging most uncomfortably into the mattress. Ed fought back the urge to use the hand that had just been inappropriately touching Roy to take care of the current problem in his (technically Roy's) pants in Roy's bed, probably to some inappropriate thoughts about Roy. Understandably, it was a difficult urge to fight against, but Ed persisted.

_His hand that had just been touching Roy..._

With the belated realization that he had just _molested a temporarily disabled male superior officer in his sleep, _Ed muffled another groan with his pillow.

* * *

_There was it again, that blank neutrality. The finality of its expansiveness made no difference whether he tried to run or remained stationary. A shrill, acute monophonic hum was a constant, embellished by unsettlingly familiar motifs of screaming, laughter, mumbles and groans that entered in a canon, overlapping into a polyphonic chaos before dissipating back into almost-silence. He flexed his fingers and tried to touch his face, but he could feel nothing. It was the same when he attempted to recall where he came from, the mundane things that were once in his life, the faces he saw everyday –it was as if someone had crudely obliterated them with a stroke of thick, gray paint. _

_Was this death? He wondered. _

_No, this was surely worse than death._

_And what scared him the most that he was _incapable _of being afraid._

_

* * *

_

For the second time that night, Roy was torn out of disturbed sleep and into an unerring, black silence. He eased himself into a sitting position, trying to get his bearings while his blood thumped violently in his ears.

_Something was watching him._

The man reached out to his left cautiously, feeling across what seemed to be the corner of a bedside table to find the switch to a lamp. His hearing registered the dull click of the switch, but it failed to ease the unearthly darkness that seemed to be seeping into his very skin.

At this moment he knew of nothing –who he was, why he was here, his past, his goals –he only knew that he was a man trapped in an impenetrable darkness along with something unfathomably ominous, and that his instincts were telling him to _run_.

Roy stumbled off the bed, taking a few staggering steps before he collided with the wall. Keeping one hand against it to steer himself he found the bedside table again, but this time to yank open the drawer. He fumbled through crumpled paper, notepads, pens and what may have been glasses to finally close his hand around a small, rectangular box made of soft cardboard. It felt like it took so much energy and concentration just to still his shaking hands to slide open the box and pull out a single match.

He could hear the dark, soft jeers and sniggers already rendering his efforts futile as he repeatedly struck the head of the thin wood against the roughed side of the box, gritting his teeth in frustration as it caught and hissed but emitted no light.

_What are you trying to do, dearie? Light a camp fire?_

The proximity of the mocking asexual voice threw him off guard, and the box fell from his hands, silently meeting the cold floor.

The man got onto his hands and knees, wiping his hands across the endless expanse of black before him, trying to gather the little source of comfort and hope that he still had left.

_It's no use, hon. But say, it's hilarious to see you trying so hard._

"No. Shut up. I'll find it," he whispered to himself, trying to see hard enough until painful spots of colours danced erratically before his eyes.

The need to save himself pushed aside all thoughts of pride and dignity –and so he crawled, a lone man thrown into an infinity reserved for himself, looking for the exit.

* * *

A dull crash jerked Edward out of an uneasy slumber. Training and adrenalin allowed him to adjust in only a few seconds before he leapt out of bed and into the neighboring room.

What he saw the moment he threw open the bedroom door made his heart leap to his throat: Roy sprawled on the floor amongst a scattering of matches, the bedside lamp lying broken and dejected at the corner –and a spot on the carpet not far from the man's form, singed black by a match that was still spluttering for oxygen.

Ed quickly put the struggling flame out of its misery with his automail foot and grabbed the motionless man by his shoulders.

He drew back in alarm as Roy started violently and pulled away from his touch, his dark eyes wide and unregistering of the blond before him.

"No, please, don't," he begged of him in a hoarse whisper, head bowed and knees raised to his chest like a child shrinking away from her drunk father's blind fist.

"Roy, it's okay," Ed said softly, approaching him with caution, "It's me. Ed."

"Who are you?" the man continued, his voice a mere whimper. "Please, don't come any closer-

The younger alchemist pounced, pinning the man to the ground before he could finish his sentence. He grunted with effort to hold him down as the larger man struggled with unexpected strength. With both hands occupied, he could do nothing but listen Roy's strangled cries of pure fear that seemed to rattle the very bones inside him and made his nerves shriek in overuse.

Ed felt broken and useless as the struggling gradually ceased, the screams dying into the soft whimpers of a cornered and immobile animal. He wanted to wrap his arms around the man's shaking frame, to touch and sooth, but there was no telling if Roy even recognized him at this moment.

He strained his ears to decipher the quiet mutterings uttered from Roy's parched lips –and within the mixture of shuddering gasps and vague whispers he just barely heard strings of 'no', 'please', 'save me'. Swallowing his anxiety and dread he gently pressed his forehead against Roy's, stilling the disoriented turns of the man's head. The tip of his nose nudged against the older alchemist's, the fear-quickened pulse at the pale wrists hammering against his flesh palm within his firm grasp.

"It's me, Ed. No one's here to hurt you, Roy. I swear," he whispered, pressing his head closer as if wanting to prove his sincerity by transmitting the message itself into the other's brain. The blond waited with bated breath –and finally, he felt the hoarse, uncertain whisper of his own name breathed tantalizingly against his lips.

"Edward?" Roy repeated hesitantly, looking up towards his direction with an unfocused gaze. With a sigh of relief he eased himself off his superior officer and assisted him to a sitting position.

"Are you alright?" he questioned, fighting back the urge to brush aside the dark matted fringe at his furrowed brows. "Do you remember what happened?"

Ed quickly caught Roy as he collapsed forward with one hand grasping his head as if in sudden pain.

"Roy!"

"Shit, Edward... I... I c-could have killed us both... I..."

"Shut up about that for a moment! Where are you hurting?"

The blond was prepared to push him back to check for obvious injuries, but Roy had leaned his weight purposefully against him, his cold cheek pressing lightly into the crook of Ed's neck.

"... Roy?"

"Wait... please, just a moment."

Ed waited, staring aimlessly at the wall before him as Roy's labored breathing gradually returned to a somewhat normal rate. When the man pulled back, his features had regained a degree of its usual composure, but Roy was still obviously far beyond being fine.

"My head literally felt like it was going to explode just then," he explained with an unconvincing, sheepish smile.

"Is it better now?" Ed pressed, concerned.

"Still there, but better," he answered, supporting his weight on the corner of the bed as he stood.

Ed rushed in the help, and felt the man wince as he took another step –as soon as he got Roy safely back onto his bed again he noticed that the bandages around his injured foot were stained pink again.

"I told you not to put weight on it, you idiot," he scolded in a gentle voice, more to put the man at ease with a note of familiarity than to reprimand him for paying his instructions no heed. He reached out to reassuringly caress the back of Roy's palm, feeling slightly hurt as he flinched in response –but naturally the man's nerves were still on edge.

"I'll go get you some painkillers and a hot towel, alright? I'll be right back."

Roy nodded, but there was a faint something in his face that begged of him not to go.

"It'll only be a few seconds, Roy. I won't let anything lay a finger on you. I'll blow the motherfuckers to smithereens before they can get within a _foot _of you."

The raven blushed, ashamed of having his insecurity found out, but had to crack a smile at the other alchemist's crude display of his characteristic, confiding determination.

True to his word, the blond returned shortly with medication and proceeded to clean and re-bandage his injury.

"Are you ok?" Ed repeated as he gently wiped the wound. "You freaked me out just then."

'I'm fine' was at the tip of his tongue, but the black-haired man felt that it would be unfair on his part if he gave such a flippant answer.

"Still a bit shaky but... I'll get there," he admitted. "Thanks... I don't know what might have happened if you hadn't come in."

"Don't sweat it," Ed said with a dry chuckle, "I'm glad to see you still in one piece. Do you remember anything?"

Roy winced as the blond applied some fresh antiseptic then said, "Only bits and pieces that I can't even describe in regular language... and struggling against you. What was I doing?"

Ed kept silent for a few seconds before he moved to his bedside, sighing.

"You were lying on the floor with matches scattered everywhere. When I woke you up you were trying to get away from something and it took a while before you even recognized who I was."

The younger alchemist grabbed Roy's arm when he saw the man's expression as he slowly recalled his nightmare.

"Don't look like that," Ed urged, "it's not your fault."

"I was trying to get away from that... _thing_. And when you came in all I thought was that _you_ were that thing and that I had to save myself... Ed, I could have killed you," Roy argued through clenched teeth.

"You couldn't have known, you idiot!"

"That still doesn't change the fact that-"

Roy's sentence ended with a yelp of pain as something hard and cold –most likely an automail finger –was flicked against the centre of his forehead.

"What the hell, you midget? That's going to bruise!"

He was quite taken back when the room filled with Ed's melodic laughter –and evidently his reaction was amusing enough that the younger man ignored the fact that he had been called a 'midget'.

"I suppose that sometimes even _you_ need a bit of gentle reminder to make you realize that you're being unreasonable," Ed mused between sniggers.

"You call being stabbed in the head with metal _gentle_? Who does that anyway?" Roy growled, massaging his head.

"Winry always does it to me, and it seems to work... although, I have to admit that the girl has some issues."

Roy's eyes widened in surprise as the hand on his forehead was gently nudged aside and replaced by a moist, warm towel.

"Anyway, the fact is," Ed said gently, "what she and Al taught me was that, it's okay to be irresponsible sometimes and make it someone else's problem too."

"Making it someone else's problem, huh?" Roy huffed, smiling. "That _is _pretty irresponsible."

"Why not?" Ed reasoned, "that way you won't get as many wrinkles from worrying so much."

"Hm. You insinuating something?"

"Maybe."

Roy started as he felt a pair of mismatched hands unbuttoning his nightshirt.

"What're you doing?"

"Do you even know that you're covered in cold sweat? At least your body's being honest with me."

Ed didn't notice the blush that stained the pale cheeks from his unintended innuendo as he slid off the damp clothing and started to wipe his body.

Roy couldn't help but close his eyes and relax as his body and his mind were soothed by the gentle motion of a soft, warm and moist towel sliding against his skin.

He only noticed how bone-tired he was when Ed's seemingly faraway voice urged him to turn over so he could start on his back. The man gradually forgot to be embarrassed and even had to suppress a quiet noise of enjoyment because at this moment, he felt so incredibly good, so incredibly _safe._

When the younger alchemist finally helped him into a clean shirt, he barely registered it –he felt like he was sinking, being swallowed up by a giant, amazingly soft and warm cocoon –but this time, he knew there was a way out: an unbreakable, golden thread was bound to his wrist, anchoring him to a familiar world so that he couldn't be pulled in any deeper.

Gentle fingers raking through his hair lulled him to an unbroken sleep, filled with the scent of sunshine and the memory of a strong and gentle hand clutching his own.

TBC

* * *

A/N: I somehow felt so bored as I was trying to finish off the latter half of this chapter... I guess when it comes to my own writing, I only get into it if I'm writing about sex, haha... (that's pretty sad). Anywho I hope it was convincing enough, huh? As for Ed molesting Roy in his sleep, I just had this incredible urge to write a scene where he touches his nipple and Roy whimpers. That's what I really wanted to do, so I somehow squeezed it in there! Thank you for reading, and please tell me what you think! I hope that you won't have to wait too long for the next chapter. And meanwhile, please do check out Sisyphean Effort's and my collaboration project, "Why Can't I Be You?", which is her amazing RoyEd fanfic that I'm turning into a doujinshi. It should be on her LJ on her profile page, I guess. Check out her amazing stories too, while you're at it!


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: I just discovered that I have a split end, on a split end, on a split end, on a split end, and now I'm somehow very excited. I also apologize for the profoundly incorrect usage of the word 'unerring' in the previous chapter, I hope nobody noticed it. Anyway thanks for all the wonderful reviews again, and please enjoy this chapter!

* * *

**Clouded Vision**

**Chapter 6**

Roy opened his eyes to the familiar sight of his ceiling. Its cream-white expanse was patterned with the dotty shadows cast by the swaying tree outside his bedroom window.

With a start, he realised that _he could see again. _Relief flooded through him like a hot shower on a winter's day. Even after merely few hours of utter darkness, the colours around him seemed especially vibrant, the edges of each shape crisp, each form beautiful in their mundane simplicity.

And the most beautiful form of all-possessing shapes and lines and colours in the most breath-taking combinations in Roy's eyes- was currently slumped over at the side of his bed, grasping his hand in a gentle but sure hold.

The Flame alchemist felt his chest constricting with a strange kind of sweet, painful possessiveness, to be able to see such a heavenly creature resting peacefully beside him as if he belonged there all along.

The blond hair was released from its usual braid, falling onto the bed sheets and adorning the white linen with a complex, pretty pattern of intersecting golden threads. Roy could only see the back of the younger man's head from his angle, but he could imagine the long, curled eyelashes fanning the tanned cheeks with their scattering of fading freckles, and the full, slightly parted lips trembling with every intake of breath.

It was impossible not to reach out with his free hand, to tangle his fingers into the thick, soft mane. He heard Ed make the softest moan of enjoyment as his fingertips brushed against his scalp, making the man's heart jump.

The blond stirred, and with an extravagant yawn and a roll of the shoulder blades, he raised his sleepy head-to look straight into the mildly surprised brigadier-general's face.

"Good morning," Roy offered with an uncertain smile.

The younger man blinked at him, his mouth half open as if searching for a reply to the simplest of questions: and Roy watched him with a bemused smile as a delightful blush started to spread its way across the blonde's cheekbones.

"Yo," Ed finally replied in a mumble as he finally found his tongue. Roy noticed that he was glancing down anxiously at his flesh hand that was still clutching his own. The younger alchemist cleared his throat and let go, hastily flattening his morning hair with his freed hand and readjusting his rumpled bedclothes.

"You have a drool stain on the right side of your chin," Roy lied with a small grin. His pearl-black eyes danced with merriment as the blond turned beet red and scrubbed vigorously at his mouth.

"Actually it's the left side," Roy decided, doing a very bad job of stifling his laughter. Ed's blush turned into one of moderate anger at Roy's expression.

"Wha- you bastard! You were screwing with me all along weren't you-

He stopped at Roy's clearly directed gaze, forgetting to be mad as realisation dawned.

"Hey... What? Roy, can you see me?" he gasped.

"As clearly as I can see your drool stain," replied Roy, putting on the expression of a 'bed-ridden patient' as the young man growled and reached out to inflict another painful metal-digit flick to the centre of his forehead.

"Phew. I'm glad that you only had to bear with being blind for only a few hours," Ed voiced Roy's relief as the man held back a groan of pain (the younger man ignored his attempt at sympathy, naturally).

Roy was in silent agreement: he expected that after last night's events, his sudden illness would have taken a turn for the worst this morning.

"It's probably because of you, Edward," the man said quietly after a moment's hesitation. The blond flushed deeply, his eyes widening in surprise.

"Me!" he chuckled incredulously, looking down. "I didn't do anything."

"Yes you did. You supported me during one of the hardest times of my life. That means much more to me than you can imagine." Roy insisted, feeling awkward and exposed even before the words left his mouth.

"Shut up, you idiot." Ed muttered. "Any retard would've done the same."

"I'm being honest with you!" the man reasoned, annoyed. "Do you even know how much you've-

"-no, you're being _embarrassing,_ that's what you're doing!" Ed interrupted with a slight squeak to his voice.

The raven went from annoyed to perplexed to bemused, and he watched the blond stand up to approach the bedroom door.

"If you're done with your flattery, I'm going to make breakfast- that is, if you don't mind." Ed said.

Roy followed suit and climbed out of bed, saying, "Didn't I tell you that you're free to make yourself at home?"

"You told me not to leave muddy footprints all over your carpet, actually," the younger man reminded him with his golden eyes slanted in suspicion. He quickly leapt forward to catch the Flame alchemist when he stumbled slightly on his feet.

"You alright?" Ed asked worriedly as he propped the man up against his shoulder.

Roy didn't trust himself to answer as a wave of nausea threatened to upturn his empty stomach. His head was pulsing with a dull but unrelenting pain, and black spots marred his vision even as he focused on a blank spot on the wall.

"Hey! Roy?"

"B-bathroom," he managed to croak out.

Ed promptly eased the man into a sitting position at the foot of the bed and, throwing the contents of the large metal bowl of water from last night onto the carpet, thrust the empty container below Roy's chin.

He rubbed his hunched back in small circles, empathetic as the older man retched painfully but nothing came out.

Roy stared at his pale, distorted reflection at the bottom of the bowl, each dry retch and cough driving blunt daggers into his abused head.

"Nothing?" Ed said sympathetically, kneading the tight muscles at the side of the man's neck. He shook his head slowly.

"I guess you'd better take it easy today, huh?" the blond chuckled. "Let's get you to the bathroom and I'll make you something light, if you can manage to eat."

Roy smiled his thanks, leaning on the blond as he helped him to stand-and stepped straight into the soppy spot on the carpet.

"What?" Ed said defensively as Roy shot him a weak glare. "Would you rather have vomit on your carpet instead of water?"

"But I didn't end up vomiting, did I?" he shot back half-heartedly.

"I was being resourceful and cautious. Now be good and shut up before I drop you."

Roy gave a shaky sigh as they made their haphazard way out of the room. He would have never thought that _Edward _of all people would be telling him to 'be good'.

* * *

Ed made a small contemplative noise as he washed the dishes, lingering too long on the spots of grease as his mind was too preoccupied. Roy had, fortunately, regained his sight and was gradually returning to his normal self, if having the man bitch and moan about Ed messing up his house was any clear indication. The nausea and headache was most likely the leftover symptoms of his sudden blindness, but they weren't things that couldn't be easily cured with a bit of medicine and plenty of rest.

Winning the argument that he couldn't take painkillers on an empty stomach, Ed had _tried _not to be too enthusiastic about his own brunch as he watched Roy grudgingly eat from across the table. The older man barely managed half a bowl of chicken broth and a bit of bread before he turned an unpleasant shade of green. He was able to keep the food down, however, and took his medicine before Ed all but dragged him back to bed.

"Why can't I sleep on the sofa in the living room?" Roy was complaining as Ed gracelessly pulled the covers over him.

"_Because,_" Ed said with a roll of his eyes, "have you ever heard of patients recovering on sofas?"

"Why not? It functions the same as a bed," Roy replied.

"You can't stretch out your body properly and there's not enough space, so you'll get nightmares and wake up with sore muscles. Besides, you have books on the coffee table and you'll never end up sleeping."

"But it's boring... can't you bring a book in?"

"No, stupid. Go to sleep."

The blond could have sworn that Roy whined in response as he curled up on his side.

"Can you stay here so I can tease you and amuse myself to sleep?" the man half-mumbled into his pillow with a cheeky grin. Ed tried not to break out into a full-body blush as he regarded the image before him: dark, sleep-mussed hair, sleepy black eyes slanted in amusement, those adorable sky-blue pajamas clothing the impeccable skin that was only a few shades darker than his bed-linen, and that –that _smile_.

Ed would _never _have thought that there would be a day when he would label a man as 'cute' –especially notthe infamous roué of central. But there it was, right before him –the type of 'I want to magic you into a miniature doll to carry around on my shoulder while I walk' cute.

The blond wanted to throw a bucket of cold water over himself.

"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard," Ed mumbled, pretending to be very interested in a non-existent loose thread on the sleeve of his oversized pajamas.

"Which is? Teasing you or amusing myself to sleep?" At least _someone _was having fun.

"Both!" Ed snapped, pulling the covers over Roy's head.

As he got up to make a hasty exit, an arm shot out from under the blankets and the younger man found his metal wrist enclosed in a gentle grasp.

Ed's heart hammered in his chest as he stared at that hand –he could almost feel it: its smooth warmth, the slender strength of those beautiful fingers, the nonexistent pulse at the underside of his wrist going haywire against the man's thumb.

Feeling that he wasn't struggling against him, the hand dropped back onto the bed, its owner making no effort to pull the covers back under his chin.

Ed held back a snort as he imagined Roy's expression (sulky, perhaps?) at the moment, and he sat back down at his bedside.

"I'll stay, but not so you can tease me," he said, almost shyly.

Roy peeked out from under the blankets, his onyx eyes soft.

"There are books in the chest underneath the bed if you're bored," he said.

"Ha! So you hid books in here after all," Ed scoffed.

"They were there for a long time. I wasn't hiding them." Roy argued.

"Hm. Should I tell you a bedtime story?"

"I'm not a kid."

Ed grinned at the displeased furrow of his thin eyebrows.

"Oh com'on, you're never too old for bedtime stories. This is about a black-haired boy who grew up to be a notorious player and a lazy twit who never finished his work on time..."

"Now Edward, that's not nice."

"You don't like that one? Oh well, then how about this? It was a dark, stormy night... rain pelted against the tall windows and the shrill calls of wild animals echoed in the distance. The king gathered his three princes together and asked them to entertain him with a story-

"Not that one! I'll get nightmares about strange things like tripping over a banana peel over and over again-

"Too bad. And so, the first prince started with his story: It was a dark, stormy night..."

* * *

When Roy woke up, it was already dark. The bedroom was softly illuminated by murky moonlight, and a gentle breeze drifted through a gap in the curtains, pleasantly cool against his skin.

A tantalizing scent wafted into the bedroom, baiting the ravenous beast in his stomach that grumbled in neglect. He sat up carefully, and to his relief found that the nausea and headache had faded significantly. The slightly indented spot at his bedside was still warm, and an open book was sitting at the corner of his bedside table.

He slowly made his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth, wash his face and give the stubble on his chin some attention, and raised an eyebrow at the unfamiliar black boxer briefs that hung on the drying rack as he walked pass the laundry.

The Fullmetal alchemist didn't seem to notice his entrance as he bent over the bubbling stew on the stove, nodding in satisfaction after a brief taste-test.

"Hey," he said softly as he watched at the doorway.

Ed dropped the tasting spoon into the sink with a loud clang in surprise, and turned around.

"Oh, you're awake. I was just making us dinner. How're you feeling?" he asked, smiling.

Roy blinked, unable to answer for a few seconds –not with the object of his desires standing there in his charmingly oversized pajamas, long blond hair swept up into a messy high ponytail, giving him a quaint little smile while telling him that he was _cooking dinner _for them.

Edward raised his eyebrows at him quizzically.

"I... I'm fine, thanks," he finally managed to say, his stomach concurrently voicing its own opinions. He flushed and smiled sheepishly as the younger man chuckled at the noise.

"It's almost done, so you can get out some plates and spoons, and cut some bread," Edward said mock-officiously, turning back to the stew.

"Yes, _sir,_" Roy said with a roll of his eyes, stepping beside him to open the cabinets overhead. He scanned the shelves for the appropriate bowls, and finally found them –_conveniently _stacked below a pile of smaller bowls above Edward's bowed head, placed low enough to stretch for them but not high enough to require a stool to reach them.

Roy made a hasty apology as he extended his arms to rummage through the stacks. His flank pressed lightly against the side of Ed's left arm, which flinched ever so slightly before it seemed to freeze against him. He heard the blond issue a faint "It's okay" in his tenor that seemed rougher and lower than usual, and didn't know whether to be thrilled or distressed when the younger man made no effort to slide away. The raven _prayed _that Edward would be oblivious to, or would at least overlook, his tell-tale heart that pounded against his ribcage, beating a loud and desperate rhythm as if eager to confess to the person next to him what the man's mouth refused to dictate. It would be so easy, to just abandon his search for those stupid bowls, to slip his arm around the blonde's shoulders and pull him in. He would just close that gap between them and finally claim that lascivious mouth before his scruples could dissuade him from the mindless act. Everything would be shut out –their sex, their age difference, their rank –shut out by the moment in which they were encompassed, a moment tingling with a sickly sweetness that would be the harbinger of the dreadful consequences that could result.

"If... If you drop that on my head, I'll kill you," Ed suddenly said with a not-so-convincing sternness to his voice.

"Ah –sorry."

The moment broken, Roy grabbed what he needed and quickly moved away to find spoons and the bread loaf. The sweet thrill was gone, replaced by doubt and confusion that spiraled in Roy's mind in an infinite riddle of 'maybe' and 'what-if's. He _knew_ that Ed's feelings towards him had ceased to be the blatant dislike and disrespect that he had often shown when he was still an obstreperous little boy. They have both grown, and things have become different; different in a way that sometimes left him feeling hollow after particularly heated shouting matches, as if their tirades have morphed from being just amusing to being a necessary barrier between them, as if their combined, heavy anxiety wanted to freeze the hourglass that flowed with two intertwined threads of sand.

_Because they were both so afraid to take that first step out of the routine._

Roy had no way of knowing what Ed wanted once they have broken through that routine, but he knew himself what he wanted –yet, when Ed stepped in the previous night and tugged him out of the murky bogs like an angel carrying out an act of redemption, he allowed himself to indulge in the possibility that perhaps, just perhaps, they wanted the very same thing.

"How're you going over there? The stew's ready," the younger alchemist called.

"Yeah, let's get it on the table," he replied softly, replacing the leftover loaf into its paper bag.

They set the two steaming bowls of food onto the dinner table, sliced bread on the side, and took their seats opposite each other.

"Is it good?" Ed asked him, loaded spoon suspended in midair on its path towards his mouth as if the blond was afraid to start before he got the other's approval. Wary of his still-sensitive stomach, Roy took a tentative sip and smiled.

"Yeah. I'm impressed," he replied. "Whose recipe is it?"

Edward nodded and enjoyed his first mouthful, taking his time before he replied.

"I learnt it from Al, but I dunno where he learnt it from. Probably Pinako or Winry or something. But you know, I practiced and added my own little twists to it."

"And I suppose that said little twists would be top secret?" Roy said humorously, tearing off a bit of bread.

"Of course! Unless you tell me some of your secret recipes as well, I might reconsider," the younger man said boastfully before focusing all his attention into the meal.

Dinner went by quickly, with Ed happily serving himself seconds as well as forcing the man to have another half-bowl seeing as he hadn't eaten much all day. Afterwards, they had cleaned up and washed the dishes together, digging up irrelevant topics and chatting away like old friends.

Then, when Edward had put the kettle on the stove and Roy was drying the last spoon, conversation ceased. The distant ticking of the clock in the dining room was like an ominous basso continuo in an experimental symphony, counting down the minutes they still had left of the day. Work was only in a few hours if the time for rest was extracted, and its proximity loomed above them, tactile in both of their lack of words to say to one another.

Now that he had almost fully convalesced, and with the working week fast approaching, Roy realized that he no longer had any reason to keep Edward. Reality was knocking on his door, and he didn't have enough locks to keep it out.

Placing the final spoon in its assigned place, he hung up the tea towel and turned around –to find blazing golden eyes boring into his own. Those eyes mirrored his own bewilderment, widening in surprise as their gazes caught and stuck. Roy was unable to look away from the pool of rich ochre: nor did Ed give any intention to sever the connection. The fire in those eyes was reverberating inside him, searching for the right amount of friction so that a spark could finally catch, so that his own repressed flames could make themselves known.

His hands gripped the marble bench, anchoring his body in place while his soul was already so far gone: he _wouldn't_ give into his body that so yearned for the blond, because he knew he would regret it for the rest of his life –but Edward was moving towards him now, his own automail hand no longer held loosely at his side but sliding along the edge of the bench, as if he was holding onto a railing for dear life at an ice rink. Roy's heart palpitated, its thumping overriding the painfully slow, mismatched metal-and-flesh footsteps that echoed in his ears.

Before he knew it, the younger man was standing before him, so close that he could feel his body heat, so close that their bodies would touch if he so much as breathed too hard. The blonde's cheeks were dusted with pink, those peachy lips trembling in uncertainty. He smelt like fresh linen baked in the summer sun, a faint, sweetly charred scent that made his blood dance and his breath hitch in his throat.

The raven had to close his eyes for a moment to get his bearings when the younger man exhaled ever so softly, his breath ghosting over his collarbone and setting his nerves into overdrive. They were like powerful, opposing magnets, set apart at a distance where the slightest fluctuation, the subtraction of the minutest millimeter, could tip the delicate balance and set them tumbling together.

And then that fluctuation came, in the form of a husky tenor that spoke his name as if it was some deliciously forbidden word – "Roy, I-

The sentence was left unfinished when the heavy, electrified silence was slashed apart by the shrill call of the kettle. They both jumped at the noise, Edward spinning away from him and hurrying back to shut off the gas. Roy let his hand drop to his side, issuing an inaudible curse as he turned towards the wall.

"I... I'm sorry," the blond said quietly. "I should get going. It's getting late."

Roy nodded, not trusting himself to speak or to look up –lest he revealed to Ed the anxious, utterly confused and disappointed expression that he was no doubt wearing.

Ed left the kitchen, soft footsteps and rustling the only signs of his presence as Roy leaned against the kitchen doorway, his mind blank and disorientated.

He barely registered Ed's soft voice when he came back.

"Thanks for letting me use your library. You should get some rest," he said, staring at a spot on the floor.

"Do you... would you like some tea or coffee before you go?" Roy managed, slipping into the hallway where Edward stood.

"Nah, I really need to go back. Got dirty laundry and dishes in the sink and stuff I've left over from Friday," Ed replied with a half-hearted chuckle.

"Alright. I'll walk you out."

The walk to the front door seemed to be the longest walk of his life. He desperately wanted to say _something_, but each step closer to the exit left him more and more discouraged. Finally, the door was opened, and Edward stood on his porch, the lamp painting his hair a dull brown.

"Oh yeah, I fixed your lock, so your old key should fit. It took me a while to work it out, but if it means that there'll be one less thing you get to bitch at me about..." the younger man stopped and shrugged, slipping his hands into his coat pockets. "Well anyway, g'nite. Take care."

He turned to leave, his ponytail whipping behind him and the tail of his red coat grazing Roy's shins as it flapped against the wind –and suddenly, Roy reached out and grabbed him by the elbow, startling even himself.

Ed twisted his head to look up at him, his eyes round with surprise and betraying the faintest glimmer of hope.

"Edward... I... thank you. Thank you for everything you've done," Roy said.

_But that wasn't -_

"You have no idea how glad I was that it was you who found me in the hallway that other night."

_-what he wanted to say at all._

Ed's expression softened, and he smiled at him, a smile that comforted him at the same time that it made him regret not telling him the truth.

"Anytime, Roy."

He let go of his arm, and the younger man was gone, leaving a fleeting shadow on his front steps before he was swallowed into the dark streets. Roy closed the door, retreating back into his lodgings, back into a weighty silence that almost required another dimension to house its presence. His borrowed pajamas, hastily folded, were laid at the corner of the spare bed, still warm and perfumed with the younger alchemist's scent. The black-haired man held the shirt against his lips, his eyes clenched shut against the unforgiving reality that spoke to him in the overwhelming emptiness of his once-familiar sanctuary.

* * *

A/N: Wow, I hope the romance in this chapter wasn't too over the top. I'm not sure if I overdid it, but anyway. I really felt like Ed making the first move for a change, but the boiling kettle just came in, you know, interruption clichés, can't avoid all of them.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Happy New Year, everybody! Thanks for the great reviews, all you readers, I'm so grateful! Please enjoy this chapter. Btw, another split end legend (not): I found a split end that naturally split itself to the length of 1cm. That's it, I'm changing my shampoo.

* * *

**Clouded Vision**

**Chapter 7**

When Edward stepped back into his dorm room that night, he felt strangely like a hermit crab that had been forced into a new shell. The air was stale, the floor littered with his belongings, half unpacked because he didn't see the point in settling down in a place that couldn't even be classified as a "home". The sharp click of the lock, the familiar bed, and even the photograph of himself and Al on the shelf, did little to abate the sense of loneliness and insecurity that arose within him.

Undressing down to his boxers, he slipped into bed –gone was his initial determination to finally tackle the total mess that he had made of his living quarters. He found it hard to believe that less than an hour ago, he had been standing so close to the person of his dreams, close enough to feel the vibration of the gorgeous, black-haired man's hammering heart against his own chest. The blond didn't plan for it to happen –all he wanted to do was steal a glance at the man's downcast face, to search for a hint of something that would give him the courage to ask Roy, "What was happening between them? Was he the only one who was feeling all this?" He didn't plan for Roy to look back at him, his dark eyes widening in surprise, then quickly half-closing into slits of black that smouldered like setting lava. He didn't plan to be captured and caged in by that look as if he were targeted prey.

But he couldn't stop himself anymore –not after he saw Roy's set jaw, the firm line of his lips, the white of his knuckles from holding so tightly onto the side of the bench: because he realised then, with thrilled elation, that the man was _holding himself back. _So Ed made the first move, he approached him with the caution of a child approaching a small, frightened and cornered animal, until he was close enough that he _knew _it would take little to break Roy's resolution.

And then the kettle had broken the moment, like a ridiculous cliché in a cheap romance flick. Ed had rushed over to shut it off, desperately thinking of something to say to gauge Roy's reaction –but when he glanced over his shoulder, the Brigadier-General had turned away from him, shoulders slumped as if in defeat. Ed had lost his courage then, and made some excuse to leave; his heart sank when Roy made no effort to convince him to do otherwise. Roy hadn't looked at him anymore after that, not even when he grabbed his arm out of the blue –only to tell him how grateful he was for Ed's help.

The young alchemist was glad that Roy was fine now, somewhat back to his regular self –but now he had no excuse to stay close to him anymore. Even in the short time that they had spent together, he felt like he had found out so much more about the man: his habits, his insecurities, his funny little flaws, the things that were kept hidden under his imperturbable façade. Ed always noticed that little flicker of _something_ that would sometimes be in Roy's eyes when the man looked at him at the workplace. Without the constraints of the office, it felt like the glass wall between them was finally shattering, so that the blond could catch a glimpse of what those looks actually _meant_. Now, it was as if he had been forced to stop halfway while unwrapping a present, and worse: the unopened box was being taken away from him, and he didn't know if he had the courage to chase after it once more.

* * *

The following day, Ed glumly made his way to headquarters, slipping into a telephone booth halfway there to give his little brother a call. Alphonse was glad to hear that Roy was doing well, and urged Ed to update him on the man's progress after he saw him today. Although the older sibling didn't respond in adamant denial to Al's teasing (regarding him and Roy, naturally), the gentle blond didn't press and hung up after wishing him a good day.

Said day was a bitter one, with the sky still a murky gray from early showers, and a volatile, biting wind that resulted in the funniest sight of one coatless and preoccupied soldier who tried to tuck his military jacket tighter around himself. The faintly rusty scent of rain had permeated even into the main corridor of the building as people filed in for another day of work, looking very much like they'd rather be elsewhere.

Everyone had already arrived when Ed walked into the office. Riza was nowhere to be seen –probably off to get the first batch of coffee –so the men were taking the chance to put off paperwork, crowding around Breda's desk and vigorously discussing a particular page in a men's magazine. They broke off their conversation to greet him as he approached, looking strangely flustered for having been caught procrastinating by someone who wouldn't care less about maintaining a high level of productivity at the workplace.

"Hey, Boss!" Havoc said, giving him a gesture that was a cross between a wave and a salute. "How's your weekend been?"

Ed shrugged, leaning his backside against the edge of the opposite desk. "As usual. What're you guys up to?"

"U-uh… well," the blond man said, clearing his throat, "nothing really, just, uh…"

The young alchemist raised an eyebrow as Breda and Havoc exchanged dirty looks and glanced shiftily at the open door for any signs of movement. Falman was retaining his stoic expression with some difficulty while Fuery had turned a brilliant shade of red. Following Havoc's sharp jerk of his head towards the magazine, Ed leaned closer to inspect the magazine page, which read-

"How to tell if your woman is faking her orgasm?" he said disinterestedly, earning himself a litany of hissed 'shh's and 'be quiet's.

He should've expected this from a brotherhood of long-term singles. (Incidentally, Havoc and Riza had been in a steady relationship for over a year and a half. Three months ago the woman had broken if off for reasons that Havoc claimed were completely unknown, and since then he had vowed celibacy until he finds out why and wins her back. The stoic and placid Lieutenant had shown no sign of surrender so far, but Ed suspected that she soon will, for the sake of Havoc's sanity.)

"At any rate, you guys should put that away before Hawkeye comes back," Ed sighed, kneading his stiff shoulders as he traipsed back to his own desk. He rolled his eyes as he heard Havoc issue a pained exclamation of "God, is this why they always leave me so quickly?"

The Lieutenant did return briskly, and, like an adroit sheep dog, sent the soldiers sprinting back to their desks with merely a sharp glance. They were thankful that both her hands were currently in use, one holding a steaming cup of coffee and the other arm wrapped around a wad of paperwork. She paused in front of the Brigadier General's door, knocking awkwardly with the fist of her paperwork-occupied arm. The man's faint "Come in" could be heard through the thick wood, and the lieutenant turned the knob, briskly walking in before closing the door behind her.

"Good morning, Brigadier-General Mustang," Riza said, placing the delivery on his already loaded table. "Here is your coffee, and more documents requiring your attention."

"Thank you, Lieutenant…" Roy muttered, head bowed and pen poised over the dotted line on a document as it had been for the last ten minutes. "The weather's been horrible since last Friday, hasn't it? Did you manage to enjoy your weekend?"

"Yes, I did," the woman replied flippantly, unimpressed with his progress as she loaded her arms with more work to dish out to the unfortunate workers outside. "I expect that pile to be finished by lunch break, sir. Please see to it that they are finished on time."

"Yes, Lieutenant," the black haired man sighed, scratching his head. "Also, I need Fullmetal to decode those documents for me."

"Certainly, sir. Should I tell him to come collect them?"

The blonde's eyebrows rose ever so slightly when the man failed to reply.

"Sir?"

"Yes… that would be helpful. Thank you, Lieutenant."

Roy looked up cautiously when he felt Hawkeye's copper eyes boring into the top of his head.

"What is it?"

Riza was actually _smiling_ when she answered him. "Nothing. Only, usually you would jump at the chance to get Edward in here just so you could tease him. I dare say that for many of the men out there, it is a rare occurrence of entertainment that they look forward to every day."

Roy tried to look unaffected as he searched for the appropriate rebuttal, but the woman had already turned around to make her way to the door.

The younger alchemist was scanning his eyes across a document with disinterest when Riza stopped beside his desk.

"Good morning, Edward," she greeted him. "Brigadier General Mustang would like to see you in his office."

"Huh, does he?" the blond replied. Riza did not fail to recognise the flicker of discomfort that found its way onto his face at the request.

When Ed stepped into the office, it didn't feel the way it usually did when the two of them were alone in a room together. Where the air had once been tingling with curiosity and an unspoken, repressed attraction, it was now dull and heavy, like diving into a bed of cotton on a rainy midsummer's day. They could see each other's tiredness: Roy's in the shadows beneath his eyes, and Ed's in his slumped shoulders. It was as if they both had barely a wink of sleep since the blond left Roy's house the previous night –which wasn't a lie, though neither of them would verbally acknowledge it.

"Hey… how're you feeling?" Ed attempted, his gaze lingering a few seconds on the Flame alchemist's face before shifting to a spot on the man's mahogany desk.

"Better. Thank you, Fullmetal," Roy replied, a faint smile gracing his features briefly before it slipped away like mist, his face once more a clean and ambiguous canvas.

"I'm sorry I couldn't express my gratitude in person to your brother for his help, but please pass on my thanks to him," the raven continued, placing the piece of paper before him back into its manila folder and onto the miniscule pile of completed work.

"I'll do that," Edward answered. "I have a huge pile of political bullshit to read and only nine hours to finish them, so what d'you need from me?"

One corner of the man's lips drew up into the all-too-familiar smirk as he reloaded his fountain pen. "First off, how about a little more patience and a lot less impudence?"

Ed's eyes narrowed as he crossed his arms and shifted his weight onto his left leg, bracing himself into a position of cautious defence.

"Not happening. Continue."

"I want you to decode these for me," Mustang said whilst handing him a thick bundle of manila folders. "They were found amongst a small but valuable collection of exotic goods and experimental weapons that were seized from an illegal Xingese tradesman who was captured last week. The notes appeared to be simply a travel diary, so they were largely overlooked. I asked if I could take charge of them so that my men could perhaps extract some information about secret trade routes and the like, and permission was promptly granted."

"I take it that they were more interested in fighting amongst themselves like mongrels for the largest share of the spoils of the hunt?" Ed sneered. "Figures. But how'd you know they're _not_ just travel diaries?"

Roy smiled. "I trust my intuitions, Fullmetal, as I'm sure you'll trust yours when you read those. I've put Falman and Fuery in charge of scavenging around in those notes and writing up a quick report for the higher ups, so you have as much time as you need on your hands."

The older alchemist's expression softened in affection at the familiar gleam of ardour that instantly lit up the blonde's eyes, as it always did when he was faced by an intellectual challenge, especially if alchemy was likely to be involved.

"I'm not sure. That's… _awfully _nice of you, Mustang," Ed demurred. "There must be a compromise of some sort, knowing you."

Roy chuckled and leaned back into his leather seat, mirthfully observing the ever-suspicious young man before him who trod his steps, even in his personal relations, with the tact of a politician who was striving to climb to the top of the hierarchical ladder.

"Knowing me, there's always a compromise," Roy agreed. "But isn't it the same for you, Edward?"

The man's question, heavily embedded with hidden meaning, prompted the blond to raise his eyes to meet his own. When their gazes caught, the air was almost crackling with tension once again. They were like two microorganisms, the stars in a mundane vignette, being drawn together by an incomprehensible force while they tried to sidestep each other in a Petri dish that seemed as large as a universe to them.

Roy was almost_ certain _that Ed was attracted to him, and that this attraction was at least worth something more than a one-night-stand. But if they were to start something on the basis of this, he didn't know if the younger man would accept that he wanted more from him than kissing and touching and secret games of courtship: he wanted Ed's _trust_, and he wanted to let _himself _trust Ed as a companion and friend who would be closer to him than anyone else had ever been in his life. He was afraid that if he laid all his cards onto the table before the younger alchemist, he would simply laugh in his face and tell him that life was too short, and Ed was too young to commit himself to a man who was, deep down, merely a wreck of pitiful loneliness and dependence.

Little did he know that Ed wanted, and was afraid of, the very same things as he.

"That's because you gotta have your own interests at heart. You gotta protect yourself, Mustang. You should know that, of all people," the blond finally replied, choosing his words carefully.

"Protect yourself from what?" Roy said softly, clenching his hands on the arm rest. "From me?"

Ed's eyes widened in surprise at the sudden display of something akin to _vulnerability_, and for a moment, he was at a loss for words.

"From getting hurt," he corrected, uncomfortable as he looked away. "Can we not talk about this?"

Roy stood up, bracing himself against his desk as his eyes were lit aflame with vehement disbelief.

"No, Ed, we _have _to talk about this," he hissed, "getting hurt from what? Do you think that I'll-

"_I don't want to talk about this,_" Ed repeated slowly, his voice dangerously low.

The raven swallowed down his frustration, sat down and rubbed at his throbbing temples.

"Fine. Do whatever you want," he said, sighing.

Ed eyed the pile of notes he had been handed, and looked back to Roy's bowed head.

"Let me guess, this is only a section of all the seized notes, isn't it?"

"One-third," the man specified without looking up. "Finish the work you've been putting off all week and I'll give you the rest."

He originally planned to irk the blonde's patience, to make him complain about being deprived of intellectual stimulation at the workplace, to bargain with him for more of the notes that he'll probably go through with the speed and efficiency of a tsunami: but that was gone, replaced by the reminder of the pointlessness of the unceasing mind-games he liked to play with Ed, his inability to just break down his barriers and let him see the true _Roy_, regardless of what the consequences may be.

"I was going to rub it in," the younger man said. "Say that while I'm having fun with decoding, you'd have to sit on your arse and spend the whole day doing shit piles of brainless reading and signing and stamping. But I'm not going to. You know why?"

Roy didn't dare answer, didn't dare look up: because beneath the blonde's ostensible tone of condescending sarcasm, there was only utter disappointment and hurt.

Edward slammed the stack of notes back onto his desk, the dull _thunk _echoing between the walls like a chorus to his disdainful rejection.

"Because when push comes to shove, you still won't trust me."

The quietness of his voice when he uttered those words seemed to reaffirm their incorrigibility and finality, in a way that made it impossible for Roy to argue back. The Flame alchemist stared aimlessly at the mocking mounds of paper surrounding him, barely registering the fading, mismatched footsteps of the other man and the snap of the closing door.

So his men had gotten their daily argument after all –but this time, Roy knew that he had lost more than just the row.

* * *

At forty-five past twelve, Roy and his men eagerly slipped out of headquarters, deciding to brave capricious mother-nature rather than the unpromising smell that wafted out from the cafeteria. Dark umbrellas dangled from their arms in cautious anticipation of the foreboding drizzle that decorated shoulder stripes with glistening convex droplets and darkened navy jackets with transient black dashes. The Flame alchemist shielded his gloved hand from the rain in one pocket of his thick, dark coat, frowning at the weather that seemed to relish in driving his depression even closer to heart.

The others were chatting away, their laughter bouncing off the narrow, smelly alleyways in a celebratory polyphony of momentary freedom. Yet, all Roy could think about was what the young alchemist had said to him this morning, the confusing hidden messages that he had left rolling about and overlapping into an angry mush inside Roy's brain. What did Ed mean when he said that he didn't want to get hurt? That when it comes down to it, Roy wouldn't trust him? Did he think that Roy would just pick him up, have his fun with him and then throw him away again like an old magazine when he had finished with him?

He let his frustrations out in a low growl, earning himself a curious glance from his Lieutenant who, as always on rainy days, walked beside him like a faithful watchdog.

"What's wrong, sir?" she asked, eyelashes adorned with clear pearls from the spitting clouds. "I think you should be very proud of yourself for having finished the allocation of work by the deadline that I've set. Or do you think that you should have done more?"

Roy gave her a dubious look, chuckling. "You're telling an old person with arthritis to climb a mountain, Lieutenant. That was my limit."

"Even an old person with arthritis could set him or herself ambitious goals," the woman rebutted, smiling. "Or was that not what you were worrying about?"

The black haired man was about to point out that _he_ wasn't the one setting said ambitious goals, but stopped when he saw the expression on Hawkeye's face: it was one she wore when she was scheming, or when she knew something that everyone else didn't –a look that taught Havoc to never cross her and others to never bet against her. That Riza was an unpredictable and powerful female was a veritable fact.

"That is one amongst many things that I worry about daily, thanks to your interventions," Roy replied, taking a cautious detour in the conversation.

"Interventions which come from good intentions," Riza added self-righteously. "But indeed, a man of your political importance has many things to worry about –being in the right place at the right time in periods of social turbulence, forging the right relationships, saying the right thing, the weather (Roy swore that she smirked at this), the safety and well-being of your subordinates…"

The Flame alchemist narrowed his eyes as she broke off, her voice tinged with a barely detectable note of amusement.

"Of course. I have been particularly concerned about the rising level of illegal trade that has been occurring lately," said Roy with impassive countenance. "Not only is the country's finance being affected, but underground mobs and even unscrupulous individuals in the military are no doubt taking the opportunity to glean some wealth and fire-power for themselves at the expense of the poor and disadvantaged."

"Yet, you are doing a great job, aren't you sir?" Riza followed calmly, "we can only do so much, but sometimes it is the little things that really count. Such as the notes from the Xingese trader that you have obtained recently. I have made sure that Falman and Fuery are making good progress on summarising the information. But I recall that their assignment is only scratching the surface of your intentions?"

Roy could only answer in a certain fashion: "I suspect that they might be alchemical notes written in code."

"A job fit for a bright young alchemist in our midst," the blond woman concluded with the ghost of a satisfied, sly smile on her lips.

Roy was beginning to wonder why she didn't put her devious, subtle interrogation methods to better use than backing him up into a corner.

"Fullmetal has yet to agree to take up on the project," he said with a defeated sigh.

Riza opened her umbrella, the nylon fibre popping into tension with a satisfying _fwoomp_ against the pressure of the moist air.

"He hasn't?" the woman said with mild surprise, "and yet he had been working with such unusual dedication since this morning. I thought he must've been doing something that interested him for once."

It was Roy's turn to look surprised: it wasn't often that the young alchemist would put so much effort into what he called 'shit-loads of political garbage'. He stepped closer to her as she raised the umbrella over their heads.

"I gave him a section of the notes to decode, and said I'd give him the rest if he completed all of his work beforehand. However, he simply refused altogether," he explained.

"That's quite uncharacteristic of Edward," Riza observed. "He is never one to turn down decoding alchemical notes, even if bargaining has to be involved. You must have said something to cross him?"

"_You _know that I say things to cross him all the time, Lieutenant. And so does he," he argued. "He doesn't take offence from such trivial matters."

"_Depending on the context in which said trivial matters occur,"_ Riza countered succinctly.

"What are you trying to say?" the Brigadier-General said slowly, not liking the way she was smiling at him.

"That Edward is mad at you and trying to prove a point with his sudden enthusiasm in completing uninteresting paperwork," she answered. "I say so because you two have been very distracted since this morning (she raised her hand sternly as Roy started to protest), which leads me to the hypothesis that _something _must have happened between you two during the weekend."

She gave the blanching alchemist a moment to digest all this as they stepped into a local restaurant by the name of 'Blue Diadem', which the team had developed a fond predilection to over the years of working together. The warm air was mixed with the sweet scent of wood-smoke, inviting them into the familiar space like an old friend. Putting their umbrellas into a basket by the doorway and shrugging off damp jackets and coats, they made their way to their regular table, the men shuffling onto the benches while Roy and Riza took a more private spot by the window. The place was lowly vibrating with chatter, half-filled with townspeople relaxing on their lunchbreak. A simple, rectangular structure of old polished wood, decorated with anonymous landscape paintings of hills and cottages and solid furniture covered with chequered table cloths of rough cotton, the homely atmosphere was the perfect escape from the bustling workplace and pelting rain.

"Trying to prove a point, huh?' Roy repeated with a grimace as he scanned the menu. "That is just like him. Stubborn and impatient."

"Why do you think Edward is impatient, sir?" Riza asked evenly.

"Why?" Roy almost raged as he slapped the menu onto the table, "Isn't that obvious? He hardly ever finishes his work unless there's bargaining involved or if _you_ force him to, and even if he does, he only does a half-arsed job because he doesn't want to waste his time on anything that's politics-related. He runs into battles mostly without planning ahead, and ninety-nine percent of his missions end up in thousands of cenz-worth in damage and a hundred pages of complaints that _I _have to deal with!"

The blond woman was smiling gently at him as she flipped over a worn page.

"And yet he puts up with your vague advances and cowardly sidestepping," she said.

Roy's mouth opened in a comical, indignant 'O'. "I do _nothing_ of the sort!"

"I wouldn't be pointing it out if you didn't," Riza reasoned. "I thought _you_ were supposed to be the experienced elder, but you're acting like maudlin schoolgirl."

The man was both fuming and nonplussed while Riza paused to order their food (she ordered Roy's favourite dish for him, as he seemed too busy staring at her as if he had just been fed a lemon after having been told that it was a strawberry).

"You've never been one to sit and wait for things to come to you, sir," Riza said after the waiter had left. "So why is something this important an exception?"

She waited patiently as he looked down, his eyes clouded with hope and uncertainty and inner struggle. Ed's patience, his priorities… Roy remembered what Alphonse had said to him in secret after bidding him farewell, on the day that he handed in his resignation form with two flesh hands:

"_Don't make my brother wait forever, Colonel Mustang."_

The woman turned to gaze at Havoc who sat at the other side of the room, her eyes soft with warmth and longing. The blond man looked up just a few seconds before she turned away again, and she tried not to laugh as she saw Havoc's mouth drop open in shock out of the corner of her eye, a dribble of coffee threatening to roll down his chin.

When Roy finally made up his mind and started to stand up, she put a gentle hand on his arm.

"Not yet, give him time to cool down first," she kindly chided. "When I last saw him he looked like he wouldn't hesitate to bring down the entire building if someone so much as looked at him funny."

"Where is he anyway?" Roy questioned, pinching the bridge of his nose in exhaustion.

"He said he's not budging until he finishes his work. I've gotten him a sandwich from the cafeteria."

"The sandwiches from that place taste like cardboard, Lieutenant."

"Don't worry, sir. I promised to get him takeaway when we come back."

Roy studied her placid profile, mirthfully disbelieving. Sometime the simplest of solutions were the hardest, but when it came out of someone else's mouth –especially someone who had known him for such a long time –it gave him reassurance and courage, if only a little bit.

"Thank you, Lieutenant. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Riza smiled as she cradled the just-arrived coffee mug in her palms. "I don't know what you'd do without me either, sir."

Later, they had stepped out of the restaurant into glistening streets, meeting soft gray skies that were finally showing signs of clearing. Havoc walked deliberately slowly, forcing Roy to pull back with him until they were a safe distance from the others.

"Hey Mustang, keep Saturday free for me, okay?" he murmured, shrugging his shoulders against the biting gale. Roy was going to reprimand him for leaving out his title, but stopped when he saw the apprehensive expression on his subordinate's face.

"Why? I have better things to do than tag along with you to drown your sorrows in sappy old movies and chocolate milkshakes," he sighed, remembering the fateful day after the spectacular breakup, on which he stupidly agreed to keep the devastated Havoc company.

"Not that, man!" he whispered fiercely. "I trust your good taste, and I need your help with something. I think I finally know what Riza wants from me."

"To grow up and be a man?" Roy sniggered. Jean narrowed his piercing blue eyes, wondering if lunchbreaks were included into non-working hours during which lightly attacking a superior officer might be permissible.

"Just promise to keep that day free, okay?" he said. Roy smiled at the look of utter determination in the man's eyes as they followed Riza's retreating back.

"Alright, Havoc," he promised and giving the man a hearty clap on the back. "I'm not going to lose to you."

Jean raised an eyebrow in befuddlement as he walked off. "Huh? What're you on about?"

"Nothing," he answered lightly with only a certain blond on his mind.

* * *

Coming back from the bathroom, Ed dumped himself back into his chair with a tired grunt. He glared daggers at the bundles of paper sitting innocently on his desk as he unravelled his loose braid and pulled it back into a high ponytail. The blond almost hated himself for being so obstinate –but if he had set himself a goal, then he would complete it, even if it meant he would be half-dead at the end. Especially if said goal involved proving to the black-haired jerk that he wasn't some rebellious kid who couldn't do his homework properly unless someone gave him sweeties. Well, the rebellious part was true, but he wasn't a kid anymore.

He didn't know why Roy's haggling ways bothered him so much all of a sudden –after all, it was always like that between them, and Ed would always find some way to slip his way out of having to fulfil his part of the agreement. Roy would flip, set some _ridiculous_ form of punishment, then Ed would somehow avoid it, and then the pattern would just keep reoccurring until Riza threatens to shoot both of their heads off. But it _had_ bothered him: he had lost it, and found some stupid accusation to plaster on Roy's forehead so that he could get the hell out of there. It was all because of the way the man had looked at him, telling him that he wanted to work out what was going on between them, asking him in such a _wounded _voice if it was _him _he didn't want to be hurt by. And that scared him, because if he stopped and listened to what Roy had to say he would finally hear the truth, be it the words that he so wished and dreamt the man would say, or the words that he had always prepared himself for so that he wouldn't simply shatter into a million pieces when he heard them. He was so sick of himself running away.

Ed clenched his jaws, frowning at the half-eaten, insalubrious sandwich before him as if searching for an answer in its unnaturally acrid lettuce, dried cheese and shrivelled ham. He must have looked agitated enough to cause deep concern, because as the rest of the team filed in, back from their lunchbreak, they gave him wide-eyed looks and Riza _almost_ looked like she was about to reach over and cup her palm over his forehead.

"A-are you alright, Major Elric?" Fuery stammered as he adjusted his glasses.

"I hope you didn't get food poisoning from that sandwich," Breda added, earning himself a sceptical glance from Falman.

"Fine, just tired," he answered, rolling his shoulders with a wince.

"Here," said Riza kindly as she placed a steaming cardboard carton onto his desk, "I bet you must be starving. Don't exhaust yourself, Edward. Your health comes first."

"Wish she says _that _to me more often," Havoc complained in what he thought was an inconspicuous grumble. The gun-wielding woman only ignored him, to his enormous fortune.

Ed stole a glance at Roy, but his face was unreadable as he slipped into the room with silent grace and an almost tangible authority. His raven hair glistening with diamond raindrops, pale cheeks stained with pink from the cold, and the tail of his black coat billowing out behind him as he took wide, confident strides across the interior, the man was as desirable and yet as untouchable as ever. The older alchemist gave no acknowledgement of Ed's presence whatsoever as he retreated to his office, and it took him a lot of willpower to not pick up his sad excuse of a sandwich and chuck it smack-bang into the centre of his retreating back.

The rest of the men scuttled back to their work stations at the quiet _ahem_ from Riza, resigned to their fates now that playtime was over. Ed groaned at his own fate that awaited him, in the form of the seemingly endless paperwork that he had really brought upon himself –but at least he had proper food now, and the scented steam that seeped out from the top of the box was nothing less than mouth-watering. He caught Riza's eye and mouthed his thanks with an appreciative grin, and delved into his little, temporary 'slice' of heaven.

Two hours had gone by without much drama, apart from an exclamation from Fuery that sent everyone sprinting (Hawkeye walked) towards the window to admire the impressive rainbow that had resided over the soaked city, the bridge of spectacular colours making everything look sad and monochromatic in comparison. Ed had gotten through almost a hundred pages when a looming shadow in front of him forced him to look up from his work. His tired eyes were met by gleaming circles of black that sent his skin tingling. Roy said nothing, simply unloading the thick mound of paper he carried under his arm onto the front of his desk before moving back into his office. The men who had looked up instinctively at the sound of an opening door and footsteps turned back to their own assignments, thinking that the Brigadier-General had only delivered more work for Edward to complete. Only Riza, who smiled at this superficially ordinary scene, knew better.

The blond was about to get mad at the new pile which weighed down half of the piece of paper that he was currently looking at –he was close to storming into Roy's office to blow off at him, but he stopped when he saw what the pile actually was. When he grabbed a file off the top and flipped through the pages, he realised, with golden eyes widened in astonishment, that they were the Xingese travel diaries. In full.

As he leafed through the frayed pages with his brain instinctively scanning for patterns in the text, a yellow slip of paper fluttered out from near the back. Ed looked at the foreign article on his desk, distracted by the movement.

_4 medium carrots, 1 bag of raw sugar, milk, cheese…_

It was a shopping list, written in Roy's distinctively elegant hand, the ink still fresh as it smudged against his thumb when he picked it up by the corner. He was about to throw it aside, until he thought about what it was doing hiding between the pages of the diary. Roy was not a person who carelessly left his personal belongings in his work documents. If he was using it as a bookmark to highlight a section that he wanted Ed to pay special attention to, he would have used a paperclip and told Ed in person. The wheels in his head spinning, Ed looked from the closed wooden door of Roy's office, to the valuable notes on his desk, and back to the displaced, unyielding yellow slip in his hand. Then he pulled out a fresh piece of paper, picked up his pen and got to work.

* * *

Roy paced about in his kitchen, boiling coffee and checking the clock outside for the umpteenth time. The unsympathetic clock face read seven fifty-five, which meant that there were still five excruciating minutes for him to wait before Edward would _hopefully _turn up on his doorstep. Riza had reassured him that the young man had gotten the message and understood it, and had urged Roy to trust the blond alchemist's instincts. But now, it was all up to Ed. Very soon, Roy would either have a large part of his world crash down around him, or he would become happier than he had ever been in his life. As he shut off the gas with a dejected sigh, the doorbell rang.

The black-haired man tried not to run and trip over himself as he quickly made his way towards the main entrance, his heart pounding above his ribs like a caged animal. When he pulled open the door, the outside world was dim, wet and cold –but little did that matter, because Edward was standing right there on his porch, a blood-warming vision of slightly worn red and gold.

"You came," Roy breathed out, relieved and disbelieving at the same time.

The man shrugged, his honey-coloured eyes downcast in uncertainty.

"Didn't want you to starve or anything," he said with a sheepish grin as he tipped his head to indicate the large bag of groceries tucked away at his side.

Roy frowned as he took the bag from him, chuckling as he investigated its contents: carrots, milk, cheese, rye bread, ham…

"You didn't come all this way just to deliver my groceries, did you?" Roy said softly as he moved aside to let Edward in. He quickly deposited the food into their appropriate place before nature could spoil the goods and let the blonde's efforts go to waste.

"Of course not, I'm not your maid," said Ed with a scoff as he kicked off his boots in a rare display of good manners. "But seriously, who writes their codes in shopping lists? You didn't even put in weird ingredients. Regular people would throw it away without thinking twice."

"You're not regular people," Roy murmured with a gentle smile. Ed looked up at him, blushing faintly before he hurried to the living room where a comforting fire was blazing away.

The blond slipped out of his coat and slumped into the leather sofa, closing his eyes in bliss as the flames enfolded his chilled limbs in warmth.

"Do you want anything to drink?" Roy asked, leaning on the doorway.

"No," Ed said, his eyes opening and blazing with a sense of urgency. "Don't give me a chance to back out of this."

Roy swallowed down his anxiety, and sat down next to him.

"First of all, I'm sorry. About the decoding thing, saying that you didn't trust me," the blond said hurriedly, his hand gripping onto the arm rest. "If you didn't trust me you wouldn't have given me the notes or even mentioned them in the first place. You wouldn't have done so many things for me and my brother since the beginning. Truth is, I was just scared. I didn't want to hear what you had to say. I was angry at myself but I blamed it on you instead."

He turned to look at the man, uncertainty and hope written all over his face as if he were a little boy again. Roy's heart clenched at the courageous confession, feeling ashamed of himself for avoiding everything for all this time. He was always the one to wait in cool indifference for his pursuer to make the first move, to bare their hearts before him so that he didn't have to face the vulnerability of self-exposure. He was always the one in control of the relationship, starting them with the full confidence that he would leave with things gained but never lost. This time, it was different. With Ed, the relationship had to be built on an equal footing –he was even _willing_ to let Ed take the reins if it came down to it: because he knew that if he didn't give himself, it would all be over before it started, and he would live the rest of his life in biting regret.

"I'm sorry. I was also inconsiderate when I said those things to you," he admitted, holding Ed's wary gaze. "Are you still willing to hear what I was going to say to you?"

Edward hesitated, and then he nodded, holding onto the side of the couch like his life depended on it.

"I wanted to tell you that I'd never even _dream_ of hurting you, Edward. I'd kill myself before I'd let myself hurt you," he begun.

"As… as a comrade? As a friend?" Ed questioned.

Roy shook his head, crossing the Rubicon: "As a lover."

"I asked you about compromises," he continued, refusing to stop even as his thumping heart threatened to close up his throat. "I meant that if, _if_, you wanted to start this something between us, it wouldn't be short-lived. I would throw everything into it, for _you_, and I'd want the same from you… if it's what you were willing to give."

He waited in torturous anticipation as Ed stared at him, his face blank and uncomprehending for a full minute –then finally his mouth opened to issue a soft, disbelieving laugh, the tension bubbling away from his body like an opened bottle of champagne. Roy was still waiting, but his nerves instinctively calmed, his heart swelling in elation as Ed moved closer to him, reaching out to loosely grasp his left hand. The automail fingers weaved through his own, the cool weight comforting as if it belonged there all along.

"God… god, Roy," he muttered, his cheeks reddening, eyes shyly searching his face. "That's what I've wanted for all this time. And there you go, beating me to saying it like the pompous jerk you are."

"Really? You don't mind?" Roy said softly, lifting one hand to cup the younger man's cheek but stopping half way in apprehension. Edward placed his flesh palm over it and lifted the faintly quivering hand to his face, leaning into the warm skin. His eyes flutter closed in bliss from the simple touch, and Roy knew that his answer was there.

"Even if I'm a man, your superior, and quite a fair bit older than you… and a jerk?" he wanted to know, adding the last line just to hear Ed make that bright, beautiful laugh again.

"If there's going to be an _us_, then none of that matters," Ed murmured, his words sure despite his embarrassment. "I'm through with waiting, already."

"How long has it been, for you?" Roy drew his thumb across a faintly freckled cheekbone, almost in a state of stupor that he was being allowed to touch him like this.

"Three… four years," Ed answered timidly. "I thought it was a stupid crush at first… because, you know, you _were_ a jerk."

Roy laughed –Ed had said the last bit in the same way that he would explain that a whale was a mammal.

"Still are," the blond added in a breathy whisper as Roy pressed their foreheads together, noses almost touching. He inhaled Roy's scent like it was air, the fragrance nearly intoxicating.

"It's been the same for me too," Roy said quietly, his breath against the blonde's lips teasing. "Can't believe how stupid we were…"

"I'll show you _how_ stupid if you don't shut up …" Ed paused, gasping softly as Roy's palm skimmed down to the back of his neck. "… so that we can kiss already."

Roy obliged, tilting his head, sealing Ed's awaiting lips with his own. It was perfect; it was _more_ than perfect, and nothing could have lessened the utter feeling of _completion_ they both felt as their mouths met one another's –not if the house suddenly collapsed around them, not even if the world suddenly ceased to exist around them. The kiss was gentle, timid, but behind the simple connection of two distinct portions of soft skin were fireworks of overpowering, pent-up emotions: emotions that were finally being set free after days, weeks, months, _years _of avoidance, restraint and rejection.

Finally, they separated, neither of them _quite _certain that the last few minutes had actually happened. Yet the evidence was clear –in their glazed, gentle eyes, their flushed faces, the close proximity of their bodies, and the sweet silence that they shared as they revelled in the newborn intimacy and trust they had just given and received. If it wasn't for the arm holding him in place, Ed was sure that he would have simply jumped onto the streets, screaming and running around until he had spent all of the adrenaline that was coursing through his veins like wildfire. Roy could probably feel his racing pulse against the hand that he still held lovingly cupped against the side of Ed's neck.

"Geez… how'd you kiss like that?" Ed muttered, smiling timidly.

Roy smiled back, and placed the younger man's palm over his own palpating heart, showing him how equally affected he was.

"Silly. It's because I was kissing _you_."

Ed made a contented noise as he relaxed into Roy's embrace, nuzzling his nose into the warm hollow of the man's throat before he buried it into one shoulder. The black-haired man responded by wrapping his arms around Ed's waist, drawing the smaller body against his own.

"You know… I never managed to finish all that work on time," Ed muttered happily. "It's all because I had to meet you at eight. Plus get all those groceries beforehand."

"You put me before paperwork and decoding?" Roy laughed. "How flattering."

"You did the same too, with the Xingese notes," Ed reminded him, looking up. "I thought you were waving a white flag for a moment there."

"You sound like you almost _want_ me to double your work-load tomorrow to compensate," Roy taunted playfully. Ed grouched, stretched up and gently nipped his earlobe, the supposedly chastising action serving only to rouse Roy's libido. Apparently not done with his reprimands, Ed boldly sucked the lobe into his mouth, his hot, silken tongue and teasing teeth sending ripples of desire down his spine and through his loins, prompting his own hands into action. He rolled the blonde's short jacket off his shoulders, slipping his palms underneath his tank to explore the warm, strong back. Ed gasped against the underside of his jaw, his eyes glazed with want as he straddled Roy's lap, his mouth now tackling the older man's with ardent urgency. Roy's vision momentarily went white as he felt a hot, hard bump, contained by black leather, rub shyly against his lower stomach. He was about to do something about that when Ed suddenly pulled back, wearing an expression of reluctance and apology.

"What is it?" said Roy, his desire-deepened voice tainted with worry.

"Nothing, really," Ed replied, groaning softly as Roy's hand continued to massage his backside. "I just remembered that I promised Al I'd call him to tell him how you are by the end of the day."

He barely held back a sharp moan when Roy couldn't help but slide a thumb along his clothed arousal, its firmness and Ed's barely disguised look of lust making his mouth go dry.

"… but that could wait?" Ed added hopefully. Roy wanted to agree, so _very _badly, but he shook his head with a gentle smile.

"You should go. I don't want your brother to worry because of me."

The younger alchemist huffed. "I can't when you're looking at me like that."

"Like what?" asked Roy, trying very hard to make his roaming hands behave. "I'm looking at you like I usually do."

"Do you usually look like you're about to eat me, then?" Ed grinned, rubbing slow, tantalising circles on Roy's chest. The man's eyes were dilated, impossibly dark, and his normally impassive face wore the expression of an impassioned man about to lose his control. It thrilled Ed to know that it was _he _who had put such an expression on Roy's face.

"I usually hide it very well," answered Roy with a smirk. "Go on then, don't make Alphonse wait. I don't want to be on the receiving end of his anger; I've heard how scary it can be."

Edward gave him a quick kiss before unwillingly getting off him, bruised lips unconsciously pursed in a displeased pout. "Experiencing it beats hearing about it. But anyway, don't go anywhere cos I'll be right back."

The younger alchemist walked off, swaying his hips mock-flirtatiously and swinging his head back to make sure Roy was watching him –and he certainly was, his eyes glimmering with hunger and mouth slanted into the sexy smirk that Ed hated and loved at the same time.

The two stopped for a moment, golden and black eyes sharing a tacit look of mutual understanding, of give and take, of a trust that could be tested but never broken. They had been through many things together, and they would continue to go through many hardships –but they both knew one thing without a doubt: that if a cripple could lead a blind man, then even if one of them falls down, they could pick each other up and keep walking on.

* * *

A/N: Kisses, huggles, fluff and sap! Thank you for reading thus far, but don't leave yet because I've planned an epilogue! (Because I don't like odd numbers, and a reviewer left me a great idea a couple of chapters back.) Meanwhile, do drop a review into my inbox, I'd really appreciate your feedback. While you wait, please check out Sisyphean Effort and my collaboration doujinshi, 'Why Can't I Be You', which can be located on her Live Journal home page. Thanks guys!


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** And so we really come to the final chapter! I feel like I've learnt so much, developed so much as a writer even through such a short long-story. Thank you so much for all your support and I'd like to thank a couple of people!

**To AnimeLuuv: **I got the idea for the epilogue from her review. Well, it wasn't so much as a suggestion, it was more like an expression of "I wish this had happened…" and it was the same as what I was thinking, only, if someone else said they wanted it I would go straight ahead and do it. Ok, that paragraph made no sense whatsoever.

**To Sisyphean Effort:** For her wonderful, inspiring writing, friendship and patience! I always hated looking up words in the dictionary, thought it was an absolute chore, until I read her fics filled with sophisticated language… and I just _had _to look them up and grasp the beauty of her imagery completely. Now I love leafing through my Oxford concise, and I find joy in using new words in my writing. (That being said, I hope most of the usage of said new words is not blatantly incorrect) I'm expanding my vocab while having fun, double win!

**To readers and reviewers:** without whom I would be drowning in a hole of misery and neglect, the story never to be finished…

**Warning: **Shameless, protracted sex will ensue (thus revealing the true nature of my writing).

* * *

**Clouded Vision**

**Chapter 8 (epilogue)**

Things were going great.

Considering that Ed was _just_ beginning to comprehend how hard it could be to have a lady-killer, male, superior officer as a lover. With all these factors involved, Ed had to worry about many things other than getting to know Roy better or to deepen their relationship: to avoid looking at him for too long or too obviously at the workplace, to remember to call him by his last name, rank or a choice of various insulting titles at the office, to only stay overnight on Saturdays, to make sure he scans the street on which Roy's house was located for any sign of military surveillance before he goes in (preferably through the back door). In this list of fastidious precautions he had to take, however, there was one thing he actually enjoyed: acting oblivious to, while secretly laughing at and belittling, the persistent, depthless pretty faces who threw themselves at Roy at a regular basis. Because he knew that Roy's mind was too occupied by _him_ to leave any space for their fake demure, overpowering expensive perfume and shameless flirting (if he could be forgiven for his conceit). What's more, after especially tedious and provocative exchanges with those brainless beauties, Roy would always act apologetic and submissive to him. Ed couldn't help but use that to his advantage, even though he didn't really care in the first place.

On the first Saturday they spent together, Ed was slightly pissed: because his new-found lover had supposedly already made plans with Havoc to go shopping. However, when he found out that Roy was helping the Lieutenant pick an engagement ring, he couldn't stay mad for long. Upon Roy's return, he only managed to feign complete ignorance of his presence for five minutes before the man noticed the silly grin plastered onto his face.

"So was _that _why she's been holding him off?" Ed had said with a guffaw. "So there _is _a woman in there somewhere after all."

Roy had laughed, and pulled him down to join him on the rug before the fireplace. "Hawkeye would not be pleased if she heard that."

And so, the following week Havoc and Riza had returned to their usual routine display of one-sided affection and flirtation. This consisted of the blond man smiling himself silly at her from across the desk, following her everywhere like a needy puppy and trying to steal kisses or cop a feel when he thinks that nobody is looking. Riza would respond in her usual way: with half-hearted reprimands and the nozzle of her gun aimed between his eyes. Ed had asked him once, out of boredom, why he would bother to pester her when he knew she would always refuse him with the threat of violence: Havoc had replied in a straight-forward manner, "It's because when she scolds me or pretends to shoot me, it's quite a turn-on."

He didn't want to imagine what the two were like in bed.

Reclining on Roy's sofa with a book cradled in his hand, the stray thought made Ed issue a chuckle of disbelief. It was another precious Saturday night that he was spending with his lover, and he was waiting for Roy to finish his shower while his own hair was drying, wrapped in a small towel. The two had spent the day discussing the Xingese travel notes that have yet to be completely decoded, while sharing a mixture of light and heavy kisses, embraces and shy touches along the way. Roy was surprisingly chaste in the 'sex' department of their relationship: on the night they confessed to each other they had simply brought each other off with their hands. Not that it wasn't _good_, because the simple thought of it made Ed clear his throat self-consciously and wriggle on the sofa in attempt to get rid of the jolt of happy remembrance in his groin. The Brigadier General had made it clear to him that he didn't want them to rush things, because they had all the time in the world to explore each other bit by bit, to find the right time to join together in the most intimate of ways. Ed was eager for the experimental part to be turned up a notch, but he had to admit that the notion of sex with a guy was a little daunting. He had done it with a girl before ("In a totally irresponsible, drunken haze," his little brother liked to remind him), but he had the feeling that when it came to sex with Roy, he wouldn't be doing the penetrating. Hell, he'd rather jerk off in front of a holy statue before a congregation, because he knew he'd be reduced to a clumsy puddle of nervousness before he could get his dick anywhere near…

Ed blinked stupidly at the page before his eyes when he realised where his thoughts had taken him. Instead of studying a valuable book on rare forms of alchemy, he had gotten himself hard again. He swore that these days, his penis was developing a mind of its own –which was definitely Roy's fault.

"You're still reading, Ed? Go to bed, it's late. We can continue that tomorrow."

The man's voice made Ed start in his seat and turn around, looking as if he had been caught stealing cookies from the cake store. Steam curled around the raven's pale, lightly muscled form as he stepped out of the bathroom, a charcoal gray towel draped across strong, bare shoulders. The word "gorgeous" didn't cover it as he made his way into the living room, the fire light casting mysterious, alluring shadows beneath every dip of muscle and bone, making his impossibly dark hair glisten like spilled ink. Roy wore nothing but faintly chequered, dark blue boxer shorts that sat low and snug below jutting hipbones, exposing a lascivious trace of dark swirls just above the waistband. Long legs that seemed like a Michelangelo marble masterpiece come alive made their way towards Ed's awe-stilled form, bending low before endlessly deep sapphire eyes met wide, gold ones.

The ever-infuriating mouth curled into a gentle smile before finding his own, planting a lingering kiss there. A warm hand slipped beneath his neck to lift his head as he deepened it, a hot and slightly minty tongue intertwining with his own in a not-so-innocent dance of greeting. The other hand found the hem of Ed's tank, drawing slow circles on his bared stomach before running up to his chest, massaging lightly then tactfully tweaking a pert nipple. Ed moaned against Roy's questing mouth, arching into the man's touch only to have it slip away, moving to rest on the side of the couch and leaving him panting and bereft. Roy's brows were furrowed as he pulled back, his lips pink and swollen from passionate abuse.

"You still taste like dinner," he noted with a soft laugh.

Ed huffed his displeasure. "I forgot to after I showered, okay? You're like my mother!"

" _You _look more like my mother with that hairdo," Roy teased while prodding his fluffy cone-head. "It's kind of cute, though."

"It's the best way to dry it, dumbass," he argued, snatching the towel off his head and chucking it at his face. Roy caught it with one hand, and with the other resumed his exploration of Ed's chest.  
"Go brush your teeth and go to bed. I'll make a final round then I'll join you, okay?" he said, rolling his finger around his nipple through his shirt.

The younger alchemist playfully slapped the teasing hand away, trying to hide his awakened arousal as he retreated to the bathroom. Roy smiled and slipped away to check the gas and the locks.

His mouth slightly smarting from the mint after his bathroom routine, Ed went into the bedroom, stripped down to his underwear and dived into the centre of the bed. Trying to talk his erection away in front of the mirror did no good at all –it was currently pressing into the mattress and blithely calling for attention. Ed rolled over to Roy's side of the bed, inhaling the familiar, comforting scent as he listened to the quiet pitter-patter of his footsteps come and go through the house. As if by instinct, his cock only grew harder at the mouth-watering, one-and-only perfume of the man that Ed sucked into his lungs like a hopeless addict.

_What would it be like to masturbate in Roy's bed?_

The blond swallowed down the lump of nervousness in his upper chest as the thought swam into his brain and refused to leave. He had wanted to do it once before, back when he was taking care of Roy due to his sudden blindness. _That_ was Roy's spare bedroom, and _this_ was Roy's actual bed where he had slept every night for years and years. The knowledge of that, along with the fact that Roy was outside and would come in any minute, only made it all the more tempting.

Curiosity got the better of him and he slipped his flesh hand down his stomach to cup the bulge between his legs, gasping as the heat pulsed beneath his fumbling digits. He had always been embarrassed about touching himself –it had constantly been more about relieving his anger and stress rather than the sensuality of self-exploration. When Roy had been subconsciously added to the equation at the peak of puberty, he hated it even more; each time he came by the imaginary hand of the black-haired man, his self-repulsion and guilt grew. Lately, that had changed: in his dorm room, on his bed or in the shower, he improvised the intimacy that would inevitably happen between them one day, and his body responded with a naturalness and honesty that made each stroke new and pleasurable.

Ed slipped his fingers beneath the waistband of his boxer shorts, wrapping them around his aching length in a timid hold. Roy's proximity, Roy's delicious, exotic smell, the risk of being found –all three made his flesh unusually responsive to the ministrations by a familiar hand: a gentle, experimental tug was enough to send him gasping in surprise against the lukewarm bedspread.

_Who knew it could feel this fucking good?_

His hand gradually slickening with pre-come, he stroked again and again while imagining the feeling of a strong, smooth and hot body sliding against, around, inside himself. The real and conjured duo of sensations left him thrusting unabashedly against his lover's side of the bed, left him stifling his moans of his lover's name by biting onto the corner of his pillow.

_Just a little more –_

Blood was pounding a little too loudly in his ears to notice the muted footsteps that paced evenly across the hallway, towards the open bedroom door.

_right _fucking _there, ahh, yes –_

Eyes clenched tight against the faint moonlight, as if in attempt to prolong his pleasure, he didn't notice the shadow that came to an abrupt stop at the entrance.

_oh goddamn, I'm going to co –_

"_Ed_?"

His eyes snapped open to take in the sight of the older man, paused halfway towards the foot of the bed, wearing an unchecked expression of complete shock –but it wasn't enough to starve off his impending orgasm, because he came right _then_, releasing all over the crisp bed linen, throwing a strangled cry into the air that reverberated around the walls in testimony to his act.

Ed tried to reshape his post-orgasm mush of a brain into something functional as he searched for an appropriate excuse: really, _anything _would be good; he was kind of desperate here. Unfortunately, he forgot to readjust his vocal cords, because the next words that came out of his mouth were little more than embarrassing, breathy moans.

"R-Roy, I –

"What," the man interrupted in a deathly calm voice, "are you doing in my _bed_?"

"I… I, uh…"

The blond gulped, propping himself up into a hazardous sitting position. He proceeded to regain some degree of modesty by tucking himself back into his pants and wiping the mess off his palm.

"Stay _still_."

Normally he would have snapped at the officious tone of Roy's voice, but his body instinctively obeyed the brusque order at the truly _frightening_ look on the man's face –jaws clenched tight, lips a thin and precarious line, eyes narrowed to slits of gleaming, gun-powder black: an unearthly composition of opposing porcelain and black opal, awash with the blue-white glow of moonlight. He was like an idol of the night and cold, possessing the appearance of snow and ice and yet, paradoxically, concealing the power to unleash an inferno that could devastate all in its path if it so wished. It was this literal and figurative quality of Roy's that made Ed so hopelessly attracted, that at the moment made his cock twitch in anticipation even though he couldn't tell himself if Roy was about to have conniptions of rage or arousal, or both.

_Shit, that cock of his really needed some disciplining._

The mattress dipped as Roy pressed one knee onto the foot of the bed, the sudden movement sending Ed off-balance and falling back onto his felt goose bumps raise on his flesh as Roy's smouldering dark eyes searched his flushed face, then trailed down his neck, collarbone, chest, stomach, like a fastidious inspector –the weight and heat of his obsessive gaze almost palpable. Ed fought back the urge to close his legs as Roy's eyes _very _obviously moved down to his groin and stayed there. The older alchemist was too far away from him for them to touch, to even be able to feel his body heat, but all the same, the visual attention was already enough to make his arousal reawaken like a snake to a tune.

Roy's voice was low, hoarse with the effort of holding back as he issued his next order: an order that positively made Ed shiver.

"Show me."

* * *

One of the last things that Roy expected to see upon returning to his bedroom was Edward half-sprawled and squirming on what was clearly _his_ side of the bed. The blonde's inwardly curved limbs and spine were taut with tension, his hips thrashing against the bed as he stifled perplexing strings of curses, groans and other words around a mouthful of pillow.

Roy instinctively thought that Ed was having some kind of fit –perhaps an attack of his phantom pains –but when he called out his name in caution and stepped closer to the bed, he realised that his first guess had been _so _very wrong.

He saw Ed turn to look at him, his mouth open, uncomprehending, wide eyes only a narrow ring of copper-gold around aberrantly dilated pupils.

He saw Ed give a final thrust of his hips, his drawn knees hiding his orgasm from view apart from the milky jet that erupted over his stomach, deliciously soiling the virgin-white bed sheets beneath.

He saw Ed throw his head back with a heart-stopping expression of shocked bliss, tossing into the air an equally heart-stopping cry that remained as a blood-stirring, pertinacious buzz in his ears even many seconds after.

Roy could almost literally feel some neuron in his brain fry to a crisp as it finally caught up with the information that his senses were providing him.

Edward had been jerking off. In his bed. More specifically on _his_ side of the bed. And he had just climaxed, _right_ when he walked in.

And now he looks like he had been pole-axed, staring at him open-mouthed as if he had grown another head. And oh, he should probably be saying something right now.

"R-Roy, I –

The younger alchemist bet him to it, but all Roy could think about was how utterly _sexy_ his name sounded in his post-orgasmic, roughened hush of a voice, and how he needed to shut up before that voice made his restraint snap in two.

"What," Roy broke in slowly, pronouncing each word with care because his tongue felt thick and clumsy and useless, "are you doing in my _bed_?"

As if he didn't know already, but that was all he could manage at the moment.

His young lover gave some flabbergasted, indecipherable reply, reaching down to pull up his boxers which had been hiked down to his thighs –

–_oh no you don't._

"Stay _still_," he ordered, his own voice sounding alien to his ears. It was low, rough, like the angry rumble of a thunder god about to punish a plebeian for sacrilege. The passion in his voice surprised him –it even _scared_ him a little –to know that he was capable of expressing such emotion, that even after years of perfecting his mask it would take so little from the _very _person he trained himself to hide from to leave him undone and stumbling.

If he was surprised, that was nothing compared to the expression that Edward was wearing at the moment: no doubt about it, the younger man actually looked _frightened._ This was the great Fullmetal Alchemist, who dives head-first into battles as if they are harmless chess games: looking at him like a trapped mouse would look at an approaching feline. His eyes were still impossibly dilated, big and alert, a gorgeous flush staining his cheekbones and –

_Gods_, he wasn't even touching him but his nipples were already erect, retracting to hard and dark nubs on a well-toned chest.

Ed wasn't just frightened, he was _thrilled_ –whatever impression of anger or shock that his face or body language was giving off, the boy was quite clearly liking it, and reacting to it. The way he held his gaze, keeping stone-still as Roy had instructed regardless of his impudent nature, it seemed that the blond _wanted _to be pinned down by his questing eyes, _wanted_ to be stripped of any defence and obligingly submit to him like an entranced virginal sacrifice baring herself before a barbaric deity.

Roy had never seen a more erotic sight in his life.

Like a hunter with his eyes on his prey, he carefully mounted the mattress –breathing in sharply as Ed gasped and fell back, his legs open and inviting.

Ed's eyes were wide, desperate, body begging to be touched –every inch of his skin prickling with awareness as if they existed only to be kissed, caressed, licked, bitten by the one man before him. Roy was poised a good half-metre away, savouring the visual entrée –nonetheless he could feel the overwhelming force of attraction beckoning him closer.

The man persisted, anchoring himself at a distance as his eyes drank in the sight: flicking over the beautiful features of the expressive face, tracing the intermittently clenching jaw line, sliding down the tan neck that was yet to be blemished by passionate marks of covetous veneration. He watched the muscular chest heave with quickened breath, the image of the dull-russet nubs of aroused muscles sexy enough to be deemed illegal. The line of his sight shifted to the puckered scar where flesh joined metal: he admired the automail limb as he would admire the left, watching his blurred reflection warp on the shiny surface like a mirage, the way the fingers flexed under his gaze reminding him that it was very much alive and yearning to be touched as the rest of Ed.

After a downhill trail past his ribcage and stomach, he finally stopped at the shadowed area between his lover's open legs. From a nest of dark blond curls rose a flushed and proud manhood that made Roy swallow down an involuntary groan of appreciation. His hands itched to touch and stroke, his mouth wanted nothing more than to suck and taste –but before that…

He met his lover's eyes and said, "Show me."

Ed did nothing but looking stunned for a few seconds; and then his left hand returned to his lower stomach, tightening into a fist around the base of his quivering member. His subordinate's eyelids fluttered half-closed in pleasure as his slick hand slid slowly to the tip, his thumb flicking across the slit briefly before moving back down to where it started.

"That's good," Roy said in a near-growl, "I want you to look at me while you do it."

Ed barely nodded back in response, his chin tilted back in bliss as he gasped into the air that suddenly tasted too moist, too hot.

"Do you think of me when you touch yourself?" he asked heatedly, fisting the bed sheets to keep himself in place.

"Yes," hissed his subordinate as he stroked faster, his arousal already oozing pre-come. "Always… even –_ah, _during… work… i-in the bathr- _ah!_"

The man inched closer, blood thumping in his ears at the salacious confession –well, that was a little more than what he wanted to hear, but it was fine too. He was finding himself torn between watching Ed's lascivious expression or the hand that was shamelessly pleasuring himself; by the way that his cock ached in his pants he could tell that this game couldn't last for long.

"Do you –(Roy stopped to groan as Ed suddenly thrust his hips to meet a particularly vigorous pump) call out my name when you come?"

Ed's eyes rolled down to meet his, his breath coming out in short, irregular puffs.

"N-no… I _scream _it."

The Flame Alchemist all but threw himself on top of him before he could fully process his sentence, pinning him to the bed with both arms above him and his legs trapped between spread knees.

Nose to nose, they listened to each other's pulses joining together into a mismatched rhythm, bouncing between them like an unseen subwoofer. Roy angled his head to meet Ed's eager mouth: it only took a minute flick of the tongue between parted lips before the kiss turned into a frenzied wrestle of passion. He traced a hot trail up the blonde's jaw line, lingering at the pulse point beneath his ear to whisper sweet obscenities there between licks and gentle nips.

Then Roy shifted his attention to the imprisoned left arm: caressing with his tongue, scraping with his teeth, up the tender underside of the tan forearm. Past the dip at the centre of the wrist bone he went, to finally arrive upon the supine, hot palm. He watched Ed carefully out the corner of his eyes as he slowly lapped at the mess there, tracking the creases below the calloused pads, mercilessly teasing the fingers before he sucked them, one by one, into his mouth. His senses assaulted him all at once: the taste, the scent, the trembling digit against his tongue, the noises Ed made, the unchecked expression he wore –they made his stomach churn with anticipation, petulantly spurning him on.

His mouth met Ed's again, and the blond eagerly let him in, the two flavours of his lover mingling deliciously on his questing tongue. The man broke away to replenish his lungs with much-needed air, then he moved down to savour the two hard, pink nipples that had previously been calling for attention for quite some time. Ed cried out, the sensation leaving him bucking against the man –his exposed erection crashed against Roy's stomach, the feeling enough to make his occupied mouth issue a low groan of empathetic acknowledgement. Wishing that he could have ravished the blonde's nipples at the same time he navigated down his stomach, with Ed's high, needy noises and automail hand in his hair prompting him to hurry up and cut to the chase.

But that was fine: he would play it slow in another fashion, if it meant that he could reduce the younger alchemist to a (almost) mute blob of aroused, desperate and beautiful flesh.

One hand encircled the left thigh, placed above the metal knee so that his fingers could rub delicate lines on the sensitive, scarred flesh where the prosthetic limb was joined. The other located itself at the point between hip and thigh bone, where his thumb played tiny ovals on the baby-soft flesh, tantalisingly close to the base of his testis. He drew the tip of his nose down the dull blond curls, breathing in the scent of faint soap, Ed and semen. His member nudged at the side of his face, hot, hard, pulsing its need –he responded with a soft sigh, barely touching the flushing flesh as his lips feathered along its length.

Ed was by no means quiet whilst voicing his objections: stringed curses were hissed, between unabashed moans, through gritted teeth, while he threw the flesh leg around Roy's frame to dig his heel into the small of his back.

"By _gods_, would you hurry up?" he growled as the raven grinned, maliciously blowing a puff of warm air onto the engorged head. He slammed the back of his head against the pillow in half frustration, half pleasure when a velvety tongue delved into the weeping tip, his once-chaste left hand simultaneously grasping his balls in a lewd massage.

"I will if you promise to tell me next time you decide to jerk off in the office," he hushed.

"Ugh, you pervert-

"_Who's_ the pervert?"

Ed's mouth dropped open in horrified offense as Roy made a move to stop touching him altogether.

"Okay, _okay_, whatever you want! Just don't stop doing whatever you've been doing –_ahhh…"_

Roy's nod of pleased approval was swiftly followed by a fluid, all-in-one breath engulfing of his cock, effectively rendering Ed speechless. He cried a song of adoration to the four walls as Roy sucked, licked, stroked and squeezed, showing him how adept his mouth was at things other than negotiating, teasing and small-talk.

The hand on the slim hip held fast as Ed thrust, wanting more of that delicious heat though he couldn't possibly go any deeper –wanting more not because Roy wasn't doing his job properly, but because it was _so damn good_ that it was nearly enough to make him lose his self-consciousness, leaving only the traversing waves of overwhelming pleasure.

Ed rode those fluorescent waves like a mad surfer, the adrenaline and suspense beating its rhythm in every part of his being. The energy licked around his limbs in ripples of heat and momentary asphyxiation, testing his balance as the wave began to heighten into a thin and precarious line.

By now neither of them could decipher the sounds that were coming out of Ed's mouth –the man knew only that he had to keep going, as much as he wanted to stop and find out what his lover's face would be like in the throes of passion. He imagined a halo of hair that were made of threads of light itself and burning, golden eyes. He imagined versicoloured beads of sweat adorning sun-kissed skin like otherworldly jewels.

The blond was on the brink of his second orgasm –and Roy doubled his efforts, pulling back to lovingly abuse the sensitive head while his fingers quickly gathered some of the slickness on his length. He then swallowed him whole once again, sucking with no mercy while kneading the tightening balls with his hand; then his lubricated fingers slipped surreptitiously to the puckered hole directly below, circling and _pressing _and –

Ed's world exploded into a phenomenological non-dimension of pure, powerful, intrinsic pleasure.

He was aware of nothing else for quite a while, before he became dimly aware of himself, or of where he was again. The feeling still tingled in a faint echo on his skin as he turned to see Roy lying beside him: picture perfect albeit appearing a little confused, seemingly unknowing of the fact that he had just been the cause of one of the most _amazing_ experiences of Ed's life.

Ed actually laughed when Roy frowned a little, asking him, "so, how was it?"

He rolled atop the older alchemist, grinning broadly as the man gasped in response to his thigh that pressed into his _very _hard erection.

"Let's leave that for later. It's _my_ turn."

* * *

"You know," said a breathless Roy half an hour later, "unexpectedly, you are _quite _skilled in dirty talking."

Interrupted from his admiration of his lover basking in the afterglow of his 'handiwork', Ed met Roy's half-closed eyes with a disbelieving scoff.

"If I recall correctly, _you _were the one who started it," he elucidated, brushing the wet, dark bangs off Roy's forehead.

"If _I _recall correctly," Roy smirked, "you were the one who was caught jerking off in my bed."

The younger alchemist scowled and flushed.

"It's because you decided to take your grand time inspecting every nook and cranny of your _ginormous_ house instead of hurrying up and getting your stupid ass into the bedroom," he complained.

Roy wrapped an arm around the lithe waist, drawing him closer. "Well, I'm sorry I made you wait –but it was well worth it, at least for me."

"I guess… I can't really argue with that," Ed allowed, chuckling.

"You know…" said Roy slowly, reverently, "a few Saturday nights ago I had to make do with thinking about how it would be like to sleep next to you like this."

Ed looked up, the words making his skin prickle with the awareness that this man, this apparently untouchable, cool beauty, was so close to him body and heart at this moment. He felt like he had been given _everything_ that he had ever wanted, and the revelation still left his heart thumping, his stomach churning with the sickening thought that there _must_ be some kind of catch that he had missed. The _tabula rasa _of his childhood had been soiled with the constant reminder that he lived in a volatile and cruel world, and sometimes, it crept up on him and left him hesitating one foot away from his goals. But this wasn't a case where _he_ was the one chasing the goal: unbeknownst to him, the goal had been concurrently chasing _him_, with the same passion, the same uncertainties.

Now its realisation took the form of a strong, warm arm holding him close and secure, of gentle deep eyes and heartbreakingly honest words.

"So did reality meet your expectations?" asked Ed gently, before planting a soft, lingering kiss on the hollow of his throat.

"Trust me, it exceeded it," Roy replied, smiling as he reciprocated the gesture. "How about you?"

"Same here… in more ways than one," the blond agreed mischievously with an inelegant snigger.

Roy combed his fingers through his tangled hair. "You know what else?"

"Hmm?" said Ed languidly.

"Expectedly, you are _also_ quite skilled at ruining the moment."

The younger man rolled his eyes and thumped him gently on the chest.

"You are _such _a jerk," he mumbled.

"But you can't help loving me?" added Roy, hopeful.

He breathed a sated sigh against warm, pale skin and hid his smile.

"_You know I can't_."

**End**

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A/N: Thank you for accompanying me on this sojourn (that shouldn't have taken this long)! I really enjoyed myself, and I loved the feedback. I really hope that, despite the failures, you had a good time reading this fic. I took a while finishing the epilogue because during the sex scenes I somehow got really lethargic… so I shortened it a little (it's still long, though). You can expect some one-shots in the (hopefully) near future. Thanks for all the support!


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